Melodies and Harmonies
by Olivia Morgan
Summary: a bunch of shorter Mondler fics, all based on or inspired by songs!
1. You Are In Love

_this is just a collection of shorter fics, all based on songs. okay!_

 **You Are In Love | Taylor Swift**

Chandler looked across the room to Monica. She was talking to Rachel, no doubt trying to calm her down about Ross saying her name instead of his new wife's. The sides of Chandler's mouth curled up slightly, thinking about the night before. He never thought that it would ever happen: it was a literal dream come true. Or, dreams, rather - he had woken up many times in the past ten years from dreams of him and Monica. When he was in college, the dreams were mostly physical - he would wake up sweaty and unsatisfied, but every morning he would chalk it up to just wanting a girlfriend, his mind using Monica to symbolize something greater. As they became closer friends, however, the dreams had become more intimate, often consisting of the two of them having normal conversations while they simply lied in bed together. Sometimes the dreams were the first time they were ever together; others, they were already in love, already in sync. But none of the dreams even compared to the real thing.

The room was heavy and dark with the tension that Ross had brought on with his blunder. Even with the newlywed train wrecks, Chandler still found a reason to be happy, and that reason had just looked back at him.

His smile grew wider, mirroring hers. Rachel was oblivious to Monica's happy expression, too wrapped up in the stress of her and Ross. Chandler saw that Rachel was walking away from Monica towards Joey, obviously not satisfied with whatever Monica had said to her.

Monica turned back to Chandler as he started his way over to her.

"Hey," he said, barely above a whisper.

"Hey." Her eyes were stuck on his like magnets - his eyes pulled hers in and there was no way she would be able to pull away unless something physically moved her.

"So Ross really screwed this one up, huh?" Chandler asked, trying his hardest to sound casual. He wasn't sure how to approach the subject of him "definitely coming over later".

Monica smiled at him before taking his hand in hers. She silently pulled him upstairs into the bathroom that Emily had not locked herself in. Chandler smiled when he realized where she was taking him. He locked the bathroom door behind them, and he instantly cupped Monica's face to pull her closer to him. She was quickly pushing off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, not bothering to push his shirt off his 's hands moved from Monica's face to the back of her head to her waist. Monica moved her hands to undo Chandler's dress pants when they heard a knock on the door.

"Occupied," Chandler said, a little grateful for the moment to catch his breath. He and Monica waited, staring at each other, not wanting to make a noise until they knew the person had left.

"It's Joey," he said through the door.

"Of course it is," Chandler whispered, leaning his forehead on Monica's.

"Let me in!" Joey yelled, knocking on the door again. A smirk started to form on Monica's face, and she started to run her fingernails slowly down Chandler's bare chest. She stood on her toes to kiss his mouth all too quickly before moving to nibble on his ear, to kiss his neck. It took everything he had not to make a noise, and Monica could tell.

"Not a good time, Joe," Chandler finally got out when Joey tried opening the door himself.

"Dude, we're roommates! I've seen you take a shit before!" Monica stopped teasing him: she was trying to stifle a laugh by burying her face in Chandler's chest.

"That doesn't mean I like it." Chandler couldn't wait anymore - he pulled Monica's face back to his, working his hands back down to the skirt of her dress, beginning to hike it up slowly.

"Fine," Joey finally conceded. "I just wanted to tell you I'm going back to the hotel with that bridesmaid."

"'Kay, see ya' later, man," Chandler responded while Monica moved her kisses to his neck. They both heard Joey go back downstairs, and they were kissing again.

"Chandler?" Monica asked in between breaths, moving right back to unbutton his slacks.

"In my right pocket," he responded, knowing exactly what she meant. She slid her hand into the pocket and pulled out the small tinfoil package. She quickly ripped it open and yanked Chandler's pants down, but she soon changed her pace as she slowly rolled it on him. He moaned into her kisses, pulling her dress up over her hips. His hands grazing her ass as he did, he felt that she was going commando and moaned again.

"You're gonna' kill me, Mon," he whispered in her ear. She smiled as a response while he pushed himself into her. She wasn't sure before if this was just going to be a "London thing" or if it should carry back to New York, but in that moment - and the few that followed - she knew she didn't want this to end anytime soon.

After they both caught their breath and composed themselves, Chandler grabbed Monica's hand before she could reach the door handle, turning her to face him. He pulled her into a kiss - not hot and hungry like their previous kisses had been, but soft, slow, and gentle. He separated from her and rested his forehead on hers, not ready to let her go yet.

"Want to go back to the hotel?" she asked bluntly. Chandler exhaled with a smile, amused at how forward she was being. Their eyes still locked, Chandler took her hand, and the two of them left the party without one word.

The Watham's house was not far from their hotel, so they walked back in a comfortable silence - still hand-in-hand with no intention of letting go.

Chandler felt kind of bad for leaving the party - for leaving Ross - like they had, but then he focused back on Monica's fingers and how they were intertwined with his and all the guilt drifted from his mind.

Monica was always surprised at how comfortable she was with Chandler, at how she never felt awkward when they weren't talking. She was especially surprised at how comfortable Chandler was with the silences: with anyone else, he would be cracking jokes, trying to make the other person laugh. But with Monica, he knew he had nothing to prove.

Monica's free hand moved to Chandler's arm, holding him closer to her. He smiled at himself and wondered how the hell he had gotten so damn lucky, even if only for the weekend.

They got back to the hotel and headed straight for Chandler's room, knowing that if Joey wasn't there when they got there then he probably wouldn't be for the rest of the night. Luckily, when Chandler opened the door, his room was dark and empty. Monica threw her bag on the chair by the door, kicked off her heals, and turned to Chandler. She was suddenly very nervous, suddenly very aware that she was sober in Chandler's hotel room.

Noticing her newly rosy cheeks, Chandler reached for Monica, pulling her into him by her waist. She looked up at him, her smile growing wider.

"You know," he started, brushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear, "if we're gonna' go again, I think I'm going to need some kind of nourishment. I didn't get to eat anything at the party." Monica smiled knowingly at him.

"Room service?" she suggested, breaking from his embrace to get the menu from the bedside drawer. "Oh! Breakfast served all day!" She pointed out excitedly. Chandler smiled at her and dialed the front desk on the hotel phone.

"Hi, I'd like to order room service," he said, sitting down on the bed. He looked to Monica to silently ask her what she wanted.

"Waffles." She whispered so softly from the other side of the bed that she was practically mouthing the word.

"Yeah, can I have two plates of waffles, two coffees, and a bowl of strawberries?" He decided to take a note from Joey, causing Monica to laugh quietly. "Great, thanks." He hung up the phone. "He said about ten minutes."

"That's fast," Monica noted.

"Yeah, I don't think there are too many people calling the kitchen at-" he looked to the clock on the bedside table- "twelve o' eight," he chuckled.

"Well, they're all missing out on 24-hour waffles," Monica said as she moved over to Chandler's duffle bag on the floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Looking for something to change into," she replied matter-of-factly. Chandler smiled at how casual she was about it, like she done it a million times before.

"Everything inside the bag is clean." She nodded and pulled out a pair of light blue and white striped boxers and a Yankees T-shirt. Facing away from Chandler, she peeled off her dress so she was standing naked in front of him.

"Wow, Mon, give a guy some warning first," he joked through the fact that he quickly lost all his breath. She stepped out of the red silk and turned her head and smiled at him. Monica pulled on the clothes as Chandler shed his. When Monica turned back around, they were both wearing just a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. Chandler was almost speechless when Monica started to walk towards the bed: he had seen her wear gowns and sun dresses and skimpy pieces, but for some reason, he just couldn't get over her wearing his clothes. Monica noticed him staring, but decided not to say anything and just enjoy the moment. Chandler finally moved to meet Monica at the head of the bed, their backs against the wall and their shoulders lightly touching.

"What do you think is going to happen with Ross and Rachel?" Monica asked, keeping her gaze on her hands in her lap.

"Honestly?" Monica looked up to see he was staring at her - she nodded. "I don't think anything'll happen. Ross cares too much to not do everything in his power to save this marriage." Monica nodded again, agreeing.

Chandler noticed the necklace that still hung from her neck, the clasp now fallen to the front. He reached out to undo it, Monica's eyes following his hands as he did. Just the small brush of his fingers on the back of her neck as he removed the necklace drove her crazy.

There was a knock on the door, and Monica looked over in panic.

"Do you think that's Joey?" she asked.

"Sweetie, Joey has a key. If he wanted to, he would just walk in." Monica sighed in relief, and smiled at the term of endearment. It was already so natural for them to use words like 'honey' and 'sweetheart' and 'babe', but this time it felt different to Monica - like it meant more.

"Room service," the man called on the other side of the door. Chandler picked up his wallet from the bedside table, took out a five, and answered the door, swapping the cart in the bellhop's hand for the bill.

"Honey, dinner's ready," Chandler said in a sing-songy voice. He placed a plate of waffles in front of Monica, but she immediately put it back on the tray.

"What?" Chandler asked, confused at her action. Monica didn't answer right away: she was embarrassed and she didn't want Chandler to think she was weird. "What?" he asked again, laughing a little.

"It's just…" she sighed. "If you eat in bed, you get crumbs in the sheets and then you're sleeping on food and everything is dirty - you, your sheets, your clothes - and-"

"Okay, shh" Chandler cut her off, smiling. "We don't have to eat in bed. We can…" he thought for a moment to come up with a solution. "We can eat in Joey's bed. No one's going to be sleeping in that tonight." Monica's face lit up.

"Really?" She got up from the bed to stand in front of him. "You don't think I'm crazy or anything?"

"Well, yeah, but for other reasons." He smiled, pecked her lips, then pulled her over to Joey's bed. The two sat down across from each other, sitting cross-legged with their plates in the middle. They talked while they finished their waffles, when they drank their coffee, and as they fed each other strawberries. They only ever stopped talking when they made each other laugh so hard that they weren't making any noise.

"I can't believe that," Monica laughed right before Chandler guided the last strawberry in her mouth, half-heartedly trying to get her to stop laughing at him.

"I swear!" He laughed with her, putting the bowl full of strawberry stems back on the rolling cart. "Lindsay Becker from college, that girl from right when I moved into the building, Janice, Kathy, and then you." The way he nonchalantly said 'you' made Monica smile, like it was so ordinary, like they had been doing it all along.

"What about all those girls you would date and then break up with for something stupid, like Big Head or Supposably?" she asked, still not fully convinced that Chandler had only ever slept with five women.

"Nope, just those five," he admitted, shocked at himself for being so good-natured about this. If this had been any other situation, if he were with anyone else right now, then admitting that he had only been with five women in all his thirty years would have been enough to make him crawl back into that hole of self-pity. But with Monica, he didn't care if she knew because he had always wanted her to be the end of that list. "Your turn." He instantly noticed Monica tense up, and he raised an eyebrow.

"What? How many?" Chandler asked, a smile still plastered on his face. "I told you mine!" Monica rolled her eyes as she inhaled.

"Okay, okay." Monica held up her fist, ready to count off her former lovers. "Dennis Reynolds, Davie Lynn-"

"You slept with a guy named Davie?" Chandler asked in disbelief.

"Shut up! Okay, um, Allan McDeere, Steve Miles, Paul the Wine Guy, Ethan, Richard, and Pete." Chandler raised his eyebrows at the end of her list.

"Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"Oh, yeah, and this guy in a club when I was in college. That was something…"

"Hey!" Chandler leaned towards her with a mischievous grin, his hands out, moving right to her sides to tickle her. She fell backwards and squirmed underneath him, fighting her laughs to catch her breath.

"Oh, right, right right," she finally got out as he slowed his tickles. "I forgot you!" She exaggerated her words, and with the strong sarcasm, Chandler smirked and began to tickle her again. He only got a few moments of her laughing until she grabbed his hands in hers and flipped them so he was underneath her. She kept his hands down by intertwining her fingers with his and gripping his hands tightly. Her laugh turned into a small grin and his faded altogether, his mouth dropping open and his eyebrows lifting.

"You are freakishly strong," he said, genuinely impressed.

"I know," she shrugged. With his hands still pinned to either side of his head, Monica leaned down to lightly kiss Chandler. It was barely a kiss, in Chandler's opinion: her mouth had just barely touched his before she pulled away, their noses brushing. Chandler tried to lean up to meet her lips again, but she pulled back just as far as he pushed.

"You're mean, you know," he whispered, not needing to make his voice any louder.

"And you're cute when you're upset." She smiled into another kiss, a longer, harder kiss than the one before. Chandler was thankful when she let go of his hands, needing them to wrap around her and bring her closer to him.

Monica kept wondering how this could possibly be real. She just couldn't believe that after all this time forming such a great bond with the person she now can call her best friend, that it was just so easy to transform into something more. There were moments that she caught herself worrying that she was dreaming, until she reminded herself that she's usually woken up by her body's stupid inability to keep her excitement contained, even in her dream world.

Monica woke up in Chandler's arms, her head on his shoulder, and she wanted to stay there forever. Nothing had ever really felt so right - she wondered if he felt it too.

The sun was just coming up, and she was grateful for the natural wake up call because neither of them had actually bothered to set one up the night before.

After a couple minutes, she felt him stir underneath her and tighten his hold on her. She looked up to see his eyes fluttering open, and she leaned up to kiss him before he was fully awake.

"Good morning," he smiled.

"Morning." She put her head gently back on his chest and closed her eyes, not wanting to go back to sleep but wanting to savor this moment.

"Hey, can I tell you something?" Chandler asked quietly.

"Yeah, of course." Monica propped herself on her shoulder so she could turn to look at him.

"You know you're my best friend, right?"

"Yeah, I know," she answered seriously. She wasn't sure where this was going - if he was going to say that he he wanted more than that, like she knew she did, or if he wanted to stay just best friends, which she knew she did not.

"Okay, good." he smiled.

"What that's it?" Monica asked. "that's what you wanted to tell me?" She sat up, not angry but definitely a little bit confused.

"Yeah," he sat up to face her. "I don't... I don't know what's going to happen when we get back home, but I just want you to know that no matter what, you're never going to lose me." He took her hands in his. "You're way too important to me, Mon."

She grinned and quickly leaned over to kiss him - passionately, tenderly, all the while smiling. She pressed her forehead to his, catching a glint of a smile on his face.

"You're my best friend, too." They leaned in to kiss each other again, both knowing that this wasn't a "just London" thing.

"And you know," Monica said when they finally pulled away. "I've been sitting here completely naked for the past two minutes, and you haven't said one joke."

"I didn't know I could!" Chandler quipped, and Monica laughed and shook her head at him.

She gave him a quick kiss before she got up to put her dress back on - she forgot that the silk was just haphazardly discarded on the floor, and she was kicking herself a little for not at least laying it over the chair.

"Are you leaving?" Chandler asked, quickly pulling on a pair of boxers before going over to her.

"Yeah, I think I have to," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. "We have to leave for airport in a few hours."

"Well then leave in a few hours," Chandler suggested. He wrapped his arms around her, just content in holding her.

"Chandler..."

"Fine, go," he said. "But I'm not happy about this." He leaned in to kiss her again before she left. And for the first time in 36 hours, Chandler was excited to get home.

...

Chandler and Joey opened the door to Monica and Rachel's apartment after a light knock, not bothering the wait for an answer.

"Morning, guys," Phoebe said from the table. Monica was making pancakes for everyone at the stove. Joey sat down next to Phoebe, but Chandler remained standing, content to just watch Monica cook. He noticed, though, after a minute, that she hadn't so much as looked at him since they got here. Once he was sure Phoebe and Joey were engrossed enough in their conversations, Chandler leaned closer to her and whispered a small "hey" in her ear. Monica quickly looked back to Joey and Phoebe to make sure they weren't listening before she responded.

"You were supposed to come over last night," she whispered, a hint of disappointment in her voice. Chandlers instantly felt guilty: she wasn't even mad at him, she was just let down. He touched her elbow to silently tell her to follow him across the room. In the alcove next to the window, they would be able to talk more than if they were standing right next to their friends.

"I'm sorry I didn't come over, but I have a reason," Chandler promised. "I was in my room waiting for Joey to go to bed, but he was in the living room watching TV for so long, so I went out to see what he was doing and there was an all-night Baywatch marathon on!" Chandler quickly realized his excitement for the situation was not going to be shared.

"You didn't come over for Baywatch?" Monica was in disbelief. He would have rather watch episodes he's already seen of other women in bathing suits than be with her, even if she were naked.

"Mon, I'm so sorry-"

"You didn't even call to tell me you couldn't leave!" She was trying her hardest to keep her voice down, but her whisper-yelling was starting to reach normal-yelling levels.

"Monica, sweetie, I know, I'm so sorry. I really am." And he was - he was so worried that he had already done something to mess up the best thing to ever happen to him. It had been just over two weeks since that first night in London, and he already ruined it.

"Well, I hope there's more Baywatch tonight for you to watch because I'm definitely not going to be entertaining you." Monica walked away before Chandler had a chance to respond. She walked right to the stove to make sure everything was turned off before she grabbed her coat. "Alright guys," she said to mostly Phoebe and Joey. "I have to go to work. Remember to scrape the food into the trash, Joe. Don't just leave it in the sink."

"I've only done that, like, one time," he said.

"Honey, you do that every time." Monica slapped him on the shoulder before leaving her apartment.

Chandler couldn't believe she just walked out. She didn't even give him a chance to try to make it up to her - he didn't even get to tell her that during the whole marathon with Joey, he was wishing she was there with him, even if they were only watching TV. He wanted to tell her that every moment he wasn't spending with her was another moment where he wasn't as happy as he should be.

"Yeah, I have to go too, guys," Chandler quickly said as he rushed out the door. Once it was just the two of them, Phoebe turned to Joey.

"I think they're doing it," she said plainly.

"We share a wall," Joey replied. "They're definitely doing it."

Chandler raced down the stairs of the building, hoping to catch Monica before she got too far away. He got onto the sidewalk and turned in the direction of her restaurant, spotting her a half a block ahead of him. He ran to her, yelling her name as he got closer. She turned around at his voice, more confused than anything, seeing him rush towards her and almost knock her down.

"Whoa, there, speedy," she said, trying to steady him. He was a little out of breath, but he ignored it.

"Mon, I really am so sorry, I should have called or really just come over. I mean, it's not hard to lie to Joey about what I'm doing, it wouldn't have been that difficult. I don't even know why I didn't because I really wanted to see you last night."

Monica felt her lips curling up into a small grin. "Even more than you wanted to see Yasmine Bleeth?" she asked hopefully.

"Honey, if the entire cast of Baywatch stood naked in front of me, I would only be thinking of you," he promised, and he meant it. Monica was the only one he would ever need, she's the only one he will ever love.

"Yeah?" Her small grin had widened, and his mouth quickly spread to match.

"Of course." Monica leaned up to kiss him, and he quickly responded by wrapping his arms around her waist. They soon released after being bumped into, realizing they were still in the middle of Bedford.

"We're okay?" he asked, as if the kiss wasn't proof enough.

"Yeah, we're okay." She kissed him quickly one more time. "I have to go to work, though."

"Right, right, go. I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah." She smiled and turned to walk to work. Chandler checked his watch quickly before taking a few fast steps to meet back up with Monica. Without saying anything, he laced his fingers through hers. Playing it off like nothing, he looked ahead and started whistling when she turned to look at him. She was in awe that this funny, cute, smart, amazing person wanted to be with her so badly. "Don't you have to go to work?" she laughed.

"Nah, they won't miss me." And he knew, if he left, he'd miss her.

As a thanks for walking her to work, Monica had insisted that she was going to take Chandler out for lunch. She met him in his office, happy that they would be able to be a normal couple for an afternoon.

Monica knocked on his office door, pushing it open as she did.

"Hey," Chandler stood up to greet her.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"I just need to drop off these papers at HR, but I'll be right back?" He walked over to her to give her a quick kiss before heading out his office door with a stack of papers.

As Monica waited for Chandler, she wandered around his office a little bit. She looked out his window, admiring his view of SoHo, then she quickly glanced over his desk. She noticed a framed picture of her on it, right next to his computer. Completely surprised at it, she picked up the picture to examine it more. It was a candid photo of her laughing, and - by the look of her hair - she would have guessed it was taken four or five years before. She didn't remember the picture being taken; it looked like it was on her balcony on a clear day. She vaguely recalled a day where Rachel was taking pictures, right when she moved into their apartment, but she couldn't remember the exact moment or the exact thing that had made her laugh this hard.

Chandler walked back into his office, picking up his briefcase from the chair next to the door. "Ready?" he asked.

"You have a picture of me?" Monica turned to him with a small grin.

"Yeah, I like to look at your face sometimes when I'm bored or overworked or, ya know, always… is that okay?" Chandler asked, moving towards her. Monica laughed lightly at him, nodding.

"Of course…" Monica looked him in the eyes, looking for any hint of sarcasm, but she found none. "When is this picture even from?"

"Well," Chandler said, less embarrassed than he was a minute ago. "Rachel took it one day when we were all hanging out on the balcony. I had just said something obviously hilarious," Monica rolled her eyes, holding her smile, "and Rachel just took the picture at a perfect time, I guess." Monica just stared at him in disbelief.

"How long have you had this here?" Chandler looked down sheepishly, not wanting to admit to her just how long it had been. "C'mon, Chandler."

"Okay, okay. I brought it in right around the time it was taken…" by the end of his answer, he had mumbled the words so softly that he was hoping Monica hadn't heard him.

"You've had this in here for four years?"

"Well, five, really. That's not helping, but the answer is yes." Chandler was nervous at how Monica would react, but the cat was out of the bag and now he had to deal with it.

"Why?" Chandler moved towards her and took her hands in his.

"Because... because even back then, looking at your smile made me really happy," he spoke slowly, focusing on his hands, but quickly looking back up at her. Clapping his hands together, he squeaked out a "Ready for lunch?" He didn't wait a moment before he turned around and started to leave his office.

"Chandler, Chandler!" she laughed, reaching out for his hands. "That's really sweet."

"No, it's not, it's weird and creepy and you can just leave now because I'm going to blow my brains out any second." The smile on his face covered up the embarrassment in his voice. Monica merely pulled him to her, giving him a small kiss.

"So, where do you want to go for lunch?"

...

It was the end of a long week: Chandler and Monica had been out with Chandler's boss and his wife twice, Ross had gone out with Janice, and Monica had to lie to Rachel more than she ever had to in one week. The two of them had been especially drained, and in order to cheer Monica up, Chandler had decided to try to have a romantic night alone with her. Joey had a big date right after work, so Chandler spent all afternoon setting up candles in his apartment, buying flowers and nice wine, researching the best take out place within delivery distance.

When Monica walked into his apartment, she couldn't believe it: Chandler was standing in the middle of his living room, in his pajamas, basking in the glow of the candles that covered every ledge. The speakers were playing Wonderful Tonight, and the wine was chilling in a tub on the counter. On his face was the hint of a smile that he reserved just for her.

"Chandler..." Monica was in awe that he would do something like this. Never in all the years she had known him did Monica ever see Chandler act like this with any other girlfriend. She had never seen him be so romantic and thoughtful and caring.

"I just thought that you've had kind of a hard week, so I wanted to do something nice to, you know, cheer you up." He started moving towards her, happy he decided to put his pajamas on because Monica had come over in hers, like he knew she most likely would. She had taken an extreme liking to the Yankees shirt she had worn the second night in London, first only wearing it when she was over, then "accidentally" taking it back to her place and wearing it regularly.

"Are you just the cutest thing?" Monica smiled as she moved towards him.

"I may just be!" Monica moved over to him and slipped her arms around his neck. She gave him a small kiss before resting her head on his chest. Chander's arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and he placed a light kiss on the top of her head. The two swayed to the music as it changed to Billy Joel's Just The Way You Are to The Way You Look Tonight: neither of them ever wanted to let go.

"Hey, Mon," Chandler whispered. Monica lifted her head to meet his gaze to tell him to continue. "I love you."

"I love you too."


	2. I Think We're Alone Now

**I Think We're Alone Now | Tommy James and the Shondells**

"I have to go meet Carol," twenty-year-old Ross Geller said, getting up from his desk chair. He, Monica, and Chandler had been hanging out in his and Chandler's dorm room all day, but he had plans with his girlfriend long before Monica had decided to take a spontaneous trip to NYU to visit. "You two behave," he laughed, grabbing his coat from the hook. Monica and Chandler laughed awkwardly, but as soon as Ross closed the door, they were reaching for each other, peeling their clothes off as they led each other to Chandler's bed.

It had all started a few months before when Chandler came to visit the Geller house over winter break. Judy and Jack had gone out for New Year's Eve, so Monica and Ross had had some friends over to drink and watch the ball drop.

Monica was standing and talking to one of Rachel's friends from school that she had brought, when he suddenly grabbed her by the waist and started kissing her. Monica immediately pulled back, speechless, and walked away from him, heading upstairs. Chandler watched the whole event happen from across the room and went up to Monica's room to try to make her feel better.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked as he knocked on the already open door. She shrugged, hugging herself. She was usually so strong-willed and powerful, which made the vulnerability more heartbreaking to Chandler.

"Why do guys do that?" she asked plainly.

"Do what?"

"Kiss you when you're talking to them. Do they think it's cute? Because it's not - it's rude and annoying." This was more the Monica he knew.

"Yeah, well, guys are usually rude and annoying." He took a couple steps closer to her, the distance between them just a little too much to be having this serious of a conversation.

"I mean, it's not that hard to understand," she said, pacing around her room, walking circles around Chandler. "If I'm talking, I don't want you to kiss me, and if I'm looking you in the eyes and I touch your chest, I do!" Her voice raised slightly with her arm gestures. "I give very clear signs!" She turned to look at Chandler for a moment before she started to pace again.

"Monica, Monica," he reached out, trying to stop her from moving. "You're going to walk hole in the floor, and then there will be thirty very drunk, very confused, very injured people who just had the ceiling literally fall on them." She let out a small laugh, looking down at her feet. "Guys are dumb," he continued. "Especially when we're drunk."

"Yeah," she laughed.

"But not you, Chandler! You're great!" he teased.

"But not you, Chandler. You're really great," she mimicked, a little more serious.

"Yeah, you're alright, too." He smiled at her, hoping she didn't notice the quick glance to her lips.

"Are you drunk?" she asked plainly.

"Not really." His voice was breathy - he was still holding onto her arm, and they were staring into each other's eyes. They heard the countdown for the ball from downstairs start, but neither of them made a move to leave to rejoin the party.

 _ten, nine, eight..._

Chandler slowly ran his hand down Monica's arm, grabbing her hand without ever moving his eyes from hers.

 _seven, six, five…_

Monica gently placed her hand on Chandler's chest, curling the fabric of his sweater under fingers.

 _four, three, two…_

"Mon…" Chandler started.

"Very clear signs, Chandler…" Monica smiled.

 _one…_

Chandler grabbed Monica's face with his free hand, crashing his lips to hers. She sighed into the kiss, immediately wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing her hands to the nape of neck. Chandler was surprised at Monica's aggression: she opened her mouth to his, quickly and eagerly. She pressed her body into his - she wanted to be as close to him as she could, and was a little frustrated at the thick winter sweater in between them. She slid her hands underneath the hem of the sweater and the T-shirt underneath, pulling him closer to her. She ran her hands up his bare chest to his back, and he responded by trying to find the zipper at the top of her dress. He hesitated for a moment, worried about what this might do to their friendship.

"Mon…" he breathed out through kisses, trying to slow them down. "I don't… Do you think maybe… This could…"

"Chandler?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up and close the door."

He obliged quickly, pulling off his shirt on his way back to meet her on her bed. It was fast and it was raw, like they had both been waiting for it to happen for so long. They didn't talk about it afterwards, but they weren't uncomfortable and neither regretted it. After they got dressed, and after Monica ran a brush through her slightly disheveled hair, the two went back downstairs to the party as if nothing had happened. Rachel came over to them to ask where they went, and they had lied slightly saying they went to Monica's room to just talk about the guy who had tried to kiss her. Rachel accepted it and the three talked for a little while longer as the party started to die down.

Neither Monica nor Chandler ever talked about it: they had a silent agreement that they were just friends who occasionally had sex with each other and nothing more. They never just kissed, they would never hold hands. They would sometime cuddle when they watched movies with the group, but they had always done that.

Monica had started to 'visit Ross' more and more, but since he was often with Carol, she and Chandler would be left alone together, sometimes for the whole night. Ross never suspected anything, for he would never think that his little sister and his best friend would ever even amount to best friends let alone friends with benefits.

But the moment Ross was gone for the night, Monica and Chandler would throw themselves at each other, not wanted to wait another moment without their bodies on each other.

"Do you think he suspects anything?" Chandler asked as he and Monica laid naked in his twin bed.

"Who, Ross?" Chandler nodded. "Please, he thinks his girlfriend is straight. I think we're okay." Chandler's eyes snapped to hers.

"What?" He laughed.

"Oh, you don't see it either? Carol's super gay," Monica explained.

"Huh, now that you mention it, she does stare at other girls a lot…"

"Yeah, straight girls only stare at other girls sometimes."

"Should we tell him?" Chandler asked.

"Nah, he'll figure it out eventually." She got up from the bed to get dressed, and Chandler followed, only pulling on a pair of boxers and a plain T-shirt.

Monica was so relieved that after every time they had sex, they were able to so easily drift back to talking like close friends. When they first started their thing, she wasn't sure how she would be able to handle it: she had always had a little crush on him, but it didn't seem like it was growing into anything more as they slept together. She knew that if he ever wanted more, she would be on board, but she knew he didn't, and she was weirdly okay with that, too.

Chandler looked over to Monica - she just finished pulling on an old Lincoln High T-shirt and black lace underwear - and he hated himself. He hated himself for what he was thinking and what he was about to say because what they had was so great, but he just couldn't handle it anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," he blurted out. Monica balked and furrowed her eyebrows - in all the four months, neither one of them had ever mentioned the sex once they were dressed. They would sometimes sigh and say something to praise the other person, but once their feet hit the floor it was like it never happened. Every time. And Monica couldn't believe that Chandler was really talking about what she thought he was talking about.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, that sounded bad, but I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with this weird rhythm we have."

"So what are you saying?" Monica asked hesitantly. She really hoped he wasn't going to break it off while she was standing in his dorm room in her underwear.

"I'm saying that this isn't enough for me!" He instantly regretted raising his voice, worried he came off as angry and not just incredibly frustrated. "I'm saying..." he took a deep breath and reached out to grab her hands. Monica was timid at first at the sudden expression of intimacy, but eventually gave in and took a few steps to him. "I'm saying that I like you, Monica. I like you a lot, but I can't just be your fuck buddy anymore."

Monica did her best to hide to smile was no doubt spreading across her face. She never would have thought that Chandler would ever reciprocate her feelings.

"Monica?" he asked when she didn't immediately respond to him. "What are you thinking? Talk to me."

"Chandler?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." She leaned up to kiss him, gently at first, hoping that the slow kiss would say enough. The kiss soon because passionate in a way that made it seem like they had been kissing like that all along, when they really had never kissed like that before. It wasn't rushed, it wasn't leading anywhere: it was just a kiss, but a kiss that spoke.

"So what do we do now?" Chandler asked when they finally pulled apart.

"Now? Now we get some food because I'm starving."

It was almost as if nothing had changed between them: they didn't tell anyone at first, worried about how Ross would react, so their new relationship was full of stolen glances and brushes of skin that sent electricity through the two of them. Monica was now visiting every weekend, much to her parents' excitement - they were hoping that the more time Monica spent with her brother, the more he would influence her behavior in every way. Ross and Carol became more and more serious - much to their friends' amazement - but that meant that Monica and Chandler had plenty of time to be alone together.

Ross had noticed the two getting closer, but he just figured that they were becoming better friends from all the time they got to spend together.

They were walking through the park, Monica wearing Chandler's jacket - it was surprisingly chilly for mid-May - with their hands intertwined inside the pocket of the wind-breaker. They were talking and laughing together when Monica suddenly stopped and stared ahead. Chandler turned to see where she was looking at: Ross and Carol were sitting on the grass about a hundred feet in front of them.

"What do we do?" Chandler whispered. Carol had gotten up to get something out of the basket they had when she spotted them.

"Chandler?" She yelled to them, squinting her eyes, not sure if she was just seeing things. Monica and Chandler turned quickly to each other and then broke out into a run in the opposite direction. Their hands had left the pocket of the coat, but they never let go. They ran until they thought they were out of sight, and then they ran some more. When they finally stopped, they both doubled over laughing onto the ground, laying to look up at the sky. Monica moved her head to his shoulder, his arm underneath her head.

"Think we lost them?" Chandler asked, as if they were actually being chased by his girlfriend's big brother.

"Yeah, I think we're alone now," she kissed him on the cheek, quickly putting her head back on his shoulder.

"Well," he started, "as alone as two people can be lying in Central Park on a nice spring day." He turned to kiss her softly, and the two laid in the grass until it started to get dark, eventually leaving the park to get something to eat. Not a day went by where they both weren't glad that just having sex wasn't enough for the two of them.


	3. Can't Take It Back

**Can't Take It Back | Lucas Carpenter**

Apartment 20 was filled with coworkers, friends, and family, all together to celebrate the first moments of 1995. The TV buzzed in the background, Dick Clark and his musical guests coming to the living room live from New York's Time Square. Chandler scanned the room to try to locate Monica, if only to make sure she was doing okay. Fun Bobby had really turned out to be a bummer, leaving her practically dateless for the occasion. He saw her standing by herself leaning on the wall by the balcony window - she was merely watching the party, holding a glass of white wine in one hand and letting the other dangle to her side. He was worried about her, but he was always worrying about her. He thought about going over to her, to see if she was okay, but she looked up at him and smiled a little, silently telling him that she was going to be fine. He nodded slightly, knowing that if she needed to talk, she would tell her.

Phoebe had invited her friend Jasmine to the party, and Jasmine had just stood in front of the whole room and proclaimed she was going to start a cult with everyone at the party. Chandler looked back to Monica, hoping she would share the giddy expression he knew was on his face. She smirked, letting him know that she was finding this just as ridiculous as he was.

Guests started drifting out shortly after the ball dropped. Eventually it was just the gang, but even they wanted to head home after a little while of hanging out just the six of them. Joey, Ross, and Phoebe went back to their apartments and Rachel retreated to her room. Chandler didn't want to leave, though, because he and Monica were having a very important conversation that just couldn't wait until morning.

"Don't be such an idiot, Chandler!" Monica yelled as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake up Rachel. "A cockroach-mouse hybrid could beat the crap out of a spider-rat hybrid!"

"How can you even say that?" His voice sounded angry, but his huge grin told Monica that he was enjoying the argument.

"Cockroaches are basically invincible," Monica argued.

"Yeah, but they wouldn't be if they were part teeny, tiny, cute, squishy mouse!"

"You think mice are cute?" Monica asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, I think a lot of things are cute." Chandler pondered for a moment, thinking of examples. "Kittens, babies, you, those tiny tree frogs that fit on pencil erasers-"

"What did you just say?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Those little tiny tree frogs that-" but Monica cut him off again.

"No, no, I agree, but what did you say before that?" Chandler thought back to what he had listed - he hadn't even realized that he said her. He had never intended to say her, but it just came out. Of course he thought she was cute, but he didn't want her to know that.

"Babies! I said babies!" Chandler tried to cover up his slip of the tongue, but Monica had already heard it, and she wasn't the kind of person to just let things go.

"You think I'm cute?" she asked, trying to keep her expression as even as possible.

"Yeah, well, you think I'm cute, too!" Chandler defended, even though he had no idea if that was true or not.

"No, I do not!" Monica knew she had sounded just a little too defensive to be believable.

"Yes, you do!" Chandler's eyes lit up, happy he was right and also happy that Monica did, in fact, think he was cute. "I can tell by the way your voice is all squeaky!" Chandler had stood up, trying to make up for his inability to scream by making his body as big as he could.

"So what?" Monica stood up to meet his eyes. "We both think the other is cute - that's not a big deal. We _are_ both adorable!"

"Right, right, right," Chandler agreed as he shrugged. "It's totally normal for friends to be attracted to each other sometimes!"

"You're attracted to me?" Monica whisper-screamed, not quite believing the conversation they were having.

"No!" Chandler hoped a little, trying to make his body even bigger. "I never said that! I'm not!"

"Okay, okay," Monica calmed down quickly. "Maybe we should just go to bed before either of us says something we can't take back." Chandler raised his eyebrows.

"Go to bed?"

"In our own beds, Chandler!" She started walking towards her bedroom, so Chandler turned to leave. He turned around before either of them walked through their respective doors.

"Goodnight, Mon," he said simply. She smiled to herself before turning around.

"Goodnight, Chandler."

...

Monica opened the door to her apartment with her date, Miles, right behind her. He was a client of Phoebe's who she met at their New Year's party. Monica wasn't crazy about him, but when he called her on the second and asked her out, she had no reason to say no. She still wasn't nuts about him, but he was nice enough, so she thought she might as well try to have fun.

Monica had started giving Miles a tour of her apartment when he stopped to study the side of the refrigerator.

"Who are all these people?" he asked, pointing to the several pictures on the fridge.

"Oh, those are my friends." She pointed at each one of them as she listed them off. "That's Rachel, my roommate; That's Joey and Chandler - they live across the hall; my brother, Ross; and you know Phoebe."

Miles stayed and examined all the pictures, noticing a very common theme.

"There sure are a lot of you and Chandler…" he noted.

"Yeah, he's kind of my best friend," she shrugged.

"Did you guys used to date?" he asked, referring to a picture from Monica's graduation from culinary school. She had her arms around his middle, squeezing him to her, smiling wide; he enveloped her in his arms as he was kissing the top of her head.

"Oh, no. We've always just been really close."

"Right, yeah, sorry," Miles laughed nervously.

"No, it's okay. We actually get that a lot, but we're just really good friends." Miles nodded and accepted the answer while Monica continued the tour. The tour was not one of her best, for she was preoccupied with what Miles had asked. She never really gave it a second thought whenever other people mistook them for a couple, but she had begun to wonder what was between them since their little tiff on New Year's. She wondered if they _were_ too intimate to be "just friends."

After the tour, Monica and Miles were sitting on her couch, talking about their childhood, when Chandler knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer. He had a six pack of beers in one hand and a bag of videos in the other. When he got in the apartment, he instinctively went over to freezer to pull out ice cream.

"Hey, Mon, I have two options: one is some girly movie and the _other_ is Die Hard. I know we've seen it already, but I was thinking-"

"Um, Chandler?" Monica motioned to Miles sitting next to her.

"Oh, I thought your date was tomorrow night." Chandler ducked down, picking up the beer and movies from the kitchen table. "I'm sorry, Mon. I'll, uh, I'll see you later. It was nice to meet you Michael." Chandler was out the door before Miles could correct him.

Miles had left not much later, making up an excuse about having to go in early tomorrow for work, but Monica could tell that Chandler had made him uncomfortable. Once Miles left, Monica marched across the hall, hoping Joey was still on his date. Luckily, when she threw open the door, it was just Chandler sitting on his chair watching TV.

"Are you really attracted to me?" It was almost accusatory, like she was daring him to say yes.

"Hi, Mon. I'm fine, and you?" He spoke calmly and teasingly as he got up and walked over to her.

"My date left because he thinks there's something going on between us." She stood firmly in place, not sure why she was so angry with Chandler.

"Oh, Mon, I'm sorry." Chandler said, only worried about Monica feeling sad and not so much about the actual question she posed when she barged in.

"It's fine, I didn't really like him anyway," she responded. "But that's not the issue, Chandler!"

"Then what is the issue?" He asked, thoroughly confused.

"Is there something between us?" The sentence hung in the air, the silence amplifying the question in both of their minds. Chandler took a few timid steps towards her, not knowing which answer she wanted to hear.

"I don't… I don't know. I mean, I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it, but…" he drifted off, not really knowing where to take that thought.

Monica inhaled, wondering what that "but" implied. Was it 'but I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship', 'but then I realized I would never actually like you like that', or 'but then I thought that you would never like me like that so I didn't do anything about it'. One of those buts she understood, one she hated, and one she could prove wrong right there. She had had feelings for him for years, but they were always dormant, pushed down to where she didn't have to think about them. She had always thought that he would only ever see her as a friend, but the few little things he had said to convey otherwise in the past couple days had given her a little glimmer of hope.

"So…" she took another deep breath, keeping her eyes glued to his. "Are you saying that you feel it, too?"

 _Too_ … Chandler hung to that word like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He had always felt the spark between them, but he consistently ignored it because he was sure Monica was so far out of his league that they weren't even playing the same sport. He was so important to her, and - knowing his dating history - it was likely she would end up hating him for some stupid thing he would inevitably do.

"Mon," he said softly, taking her small hands in his. "You are the most incredible person I have ever met in my life." Monica smiled slightly at his sincerity, remembering the last time he had said something like that to her. This time was a little better just because she wasn't in only a towel. "But," Chandler continued, causing Monica's smile to visibly fade. "You're also my best friend, and if I ever lost you…"

"Hey," Monica interrupted. "You will never lose me, no matter what happens." She tightened her grip on his hands to reassure him that she meant it.

"You can't promise that, and you know it," he whispered. And as painful as it was for him to say it - and for her to hear it - they both knew it was true.

"So we're not even going to try?" Chandler could hear the disappointment in her voice, which caught him off guard

Monica could feel her chest tightening up and her breath catching - it felt like she was just hit by a train. She had gotten such an unexpected rush of feelings for him, realizing that she had been in love with him for a long time but always just brushing it off as a close friendship. She always knew on some level that she felt more for him, but it wasn't until someone else pointed it out that she realized how strong those feelings were.

"I think that's probably for the best." Monica nodded, keeping her head down to avoid his eyes. Still, they both knew he was right - their friendship was too important to jump on an impulse.

"I should probably go, then," Monica muttered after a moment. She didn't wait for Chandler's answer before she started to walk out the door.

"Monica." Chandler didn't want her to leave, he didn't want things to be weird between them. She turned to look over her shoulder at him, one hand on the doorknob.

"Goodnight, Chandler."

He let her walk out the door without another word.

...

The next few days were awkward between the two friend, and the rest of the group noticed. They didn't do anything to mend whatever was happening between Monica and Chandler, however; they always managed to work things out without any intervention.

The gang had unintentionally left Monica and Chandler alone in the coffee house, forgetting he was in the bathroom when the last of the group had to leave. Monica sat on one end of the Orange couch; Chandler, the other end, not looking to close the gap between them, like they usually would.

Monica could feel him staring at her, but she didn't look up.

"Mon…" he said with a sigh. "Can you talk to me? I feel like I'm losing my best friend." Monica looked up at him, and she felt guilty - guilty because she told him that he would never lose her, and guilty because she was the one who was hurting him.

"I'm sorry," she moved closer to him so they wouldn't have to talk so loudly in the middle of the coffee house. "It's just… admitting your feelings for someone is hard enough. Add that to being rejected, and - I don't know, Chandler - I guess I'm just not in a best friend kind of place right now." She knew she had come off a little colder than she had originally intended, but her emotions were still reeling from two nights before.

Chandler had no idea that was how she felt. He figured the whole wanting-to-date-thing was just a combination of Miles leaving and their conversation on New Years. He felt like a jackass for making her feel so terrible for no reason.

"Monica…" She got up, ignoring his move for her hands.

"I don't think I can talk to you yet. I'll see you later, Chandler." For the second time that week, Chandler watched the woman he loved walk out on him.

...

It took them a few weeks, but eventually Monica and Chandler were mostly back to normal. The rest of the group was happy there was no more tension between them and that everything was back to normal.

Chandler was still filled with guilt, but he was getting better at hiding it. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been to let Monica go before he was even with her. He saw how quickly she was getting over him, so he pretended he made the right choice - if only to save himself any future heartache.

The two were faced with another night by themselves when the rest of the gang had decided to turn in relatively early. While they had been alone since the incident, they hadn't been alone late at night with a few drinks in them. They weren't drunk enough to throw complete caution to the wind, but they were definitely drunk enough for their judgement to be impaired.

"You know," Chandler said as he sipped his third margarita. "You're my prettiest friend."

"Chandler…" Monica could tell that he was just a little bit drunker than her.

"No, I mean it, Monica. You're beautiful." He looked into her eyes more seriously and more soberly than he had before. He didn't wait for Monica to respond to continue. "I don't want what I said to be something I can't take back." He looked down as he spoke, not embarrassed that he said it but embarrassed at how corny he had sounded.

Monica thought she knew what he was talking about, but she couldn't make her next move based on a probably.

"So what are you saying?" She spoke slowly, inching her face closer to his, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"I'm saying that I feel it, too." Chandler smiled at the grin that was growing on Monica's face. "I'm saying that I think we should at least try."

"What about your fear of losing me?" she asked with a coy smile, still leaning closer to him.

"Well, we'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen." Monica responded merely by closing the last of the small gap to kiss him, hesitantly at first, until she felt him kiss back hard. He put his hands in her hair, and she wrapped her arms around his chest. She had never had such a passionate first kiss with someone - a kiss filled with history and longing and intimacy.

They pulled their faces apart and smiled at each other, both trying to catch their breath. Chandler was so wrapped up in the euphoria that he didn't even notice at first when Monica's smile turned to a frown as she moved her arm to hit him on the arm.

"Ow!" Chandler let it out like a question, confused as to why Monica would be hitting him, especially after such a great kiss.

"What's the matter with you?" She yelled through clenched teeth, still not wanting to wake Rachel, but Chandler could see a hint of a smile on her face as she did.

"What, what did I do?"

"How come it took you four weeks to say that you liked me too?" She couldn't believe that Chandler had wasted so much time.

"In my defense, it took six years for me to hear it from you…" he shrugged, but Monica narrowed her eyes at him.

"You've liked me for six years?" she never would have guessed that their fast friendship was based on anything but. Chandler just shrugged in response, warranting another hit on the arm from Monica.

"What is your problem?" She was laughing, but he knew that although it was light-hearted, she meant it. If he had told her sooner, they might have been able to start much earlier. But before he had a chance to answer, she was pulling him to her by his shirt, needing his lips on hers again.

...

Chandler stood in front of hundreds of people, letting his excited smile cover his face. After years and years of not knowing whether or not he would be happy, he was finally sure he would be. The organist started playing and into view came his bride. He was in awe at how beautiful she looked in her white gown, her hair pulled out of her face but still flowing over her shoulders. He turned to glance over his left shoulder at his best man - her brother. Ross nodded to him slightly, reassuring Chandler that this was real, that he wasn't about to wake up from a very fantastic dream. Monica stepped up to the steeple, instantly taking his hands in hers.

"Dearly beloved," Joey started, standing in between the couple. Neither Monica nor Chandler heard much of what he was saying at first: they were both enthralled in each other's loving stare. They were finally getting married.

"Chandler, your vows," Joey prompted, pulling Chandler out of his Monica-induced haze.

"Monica," he sighed, suddenly very aware of how many pairs of eyes were watching him. "Before you, I had begun to wonder if I was ever going to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. But then I fell in love with my best friend, and I knew that was it. You're the most beautiful, smart, generous person I have ever known. You make me so happy, Mon, that I can't even contain it. Being able to spend the rest of my life with you makes me so happy." There were tears in Monica's eyes, so Chandler reached out to wipe a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.

"That was beautiful," Joey sniffled. "Monica?" She took a deep breath before beginning.

"Chandler… Everyday I feel so incredibly lucky to be able to love you and to be loved by you. You make me laugh, you support me, you care for me. You are the most amazing man I have ever known. You are the love of my life, and I'm so thankful I get to wake up to you everyday, to share a future with you - my prince, my soulmate, my best friend."

"Do you take each other," Joey continued, holding back his own tears, "in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until death do you part?" They both let out a simultaneous I do, to which Joey replied with a "yeah, you do!"

Ross and Rachel handed over the rings, and Monica and Chandler slowly slipped them on each other's fingers. Joey barely got through pronouncing them husband and wife before they had pulled each other in for a large kiss. They released to the sounds of cheering and clapping from the guests, but Monica and Chandler ignored them. He leaned his head on hers, soaking in all her beauty.

"We're married," Chandler whispered, still in shock that this woman loved him back.

"No backing out now, big guy," Monica joked back.

"I would never," he replied seriously, giving her a quick kiss before they turned around to cheer with the rest of their guests. The two walked back down the aisle, hand and hand, ready to start the rest of their lives together.


	4. If It Kills Me

_sorry, this one's a little shorter than the others. hope you still like it!_

 **If It Kills Me | Jason Mraz**

"Worst comes to worst, I'll be your boyfriend," Chandler suggested as casually as he could to Monica as they sat outside Central Perk waiting for their friends. He hoped that this time, by actually offering to date her, she would understand that his offers and compliments weren't empty in any way. He just wanted her to figure it out so he would never have to tell her. He wanted it to finally click in her head, that he loved her and always had. He wanted her face to light up at his, her mind letting her know that she loved him, too. He wanted her to make the first move so that he never had to worry if she was with him out of pity or just because he had offered. He wanted her to want him. But that was just his wishful thinking - if she hadn't picked up on it by now, she never would. He had come to terms with the fact that he was only ever going to be her friend that cheered her up when her boyfriends were terrible to her.

She just laughed at his offer, which hurt, so he got defensive.

"What? You made a joke, so I laughed," she said with a shrug.

"A little too hard." He had resigned to the fact that she would never fall in love with him, but he knew he wasn't completely repulsive.

"Look," she sighed. "You're great, but - I don't know - you're just not really boyfriend material." Before Chandler had a chance to respond, Phoebe had pulled up with the cab, ready to start their trip to Montauk.

Chandler helped load up the car, all the while thinking about ways to show Monica that he could be boyfriend material with the right person. He'd find a way if it killed him.

On the car ride, Monica had fallen asleep on Chandler's shoulder in the back of Phoebe's cab. With Phoebe and Rachel in the front talking, and Ross and Joey in the rental car with some of their stuff, Chandler wanted to wake up Monica so they could play a car game together. But he thought again about what she had said about him not being boyfriend material, so he let her be, trying his hardest to hide the fact that he was watching her sleep. Phoebe - not the best driver in not the safest car - sped over a pothole, jolting Monica awake. She lifted her head from Chandler's shoulder slowly.

"Pheebs!" Chandler said, mad at Phoebe for making Monica move from her place on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Mon," Phoebe called back.

"No, it's okay. Don't worry about it." Monica turned to look at Chandler, trying to rub her eyes awake. "Was I asleep on you?" she asked plainly.

"Oh, were you?" Chandler responded slyly. "I didn't even notice." Monica smiled at the rare nice sarcastic comment.

"You could've woken me up."

"It didn't bother me," Chandler said, shrugging and looking out the window, trying to wrap up the conversation. He wanted to casually show Monica all the sweet things he did when he _wasn't_ her boyfriend so she would know that if they ever were to date, he would be even sweeter.

Chandler and Monica were left sitting on the porch together at the end of a long night. Rachel had turned in early, not wanting to be around Ross and Bonnie, who had also turned in not long after. Phoebe had gone straight to bed when she got home from talking to her birth mom. Joey had fallen asleep on the sand in the living room, leaving Monica and Chandler to first cover him in sand to look like a mermaid, then to sit on the porch because neither were tired yet.

Chandler was listening to Monica tell a story about school for the hundredth time, but he didn't care: he liked the way her eyes lit up when she was excited about what she was saying, so he wanted her to keep talking. He watched her hands move with her words, and he watched her eyes dart to him when she said something funny to make sure he was smiling. She wasn't aware that he never stopped. It was moments like this one where Chandler knew what he felt was love: he wasn't just attracted to Monica's dark hair and piercing blue eyes and contagious smile. He loved her enthusiasm. He loved the way her voice sped up before she got to the punchline. He loved that she made sure he enjoyed hearing the story as much as she enjoyed telling it.

He loved her.

When she finished the story, neither of them continued the conversation, comfortable in their silence and their company. Monica leaned her head back to look at the stars in the clear sky, enjoying what she never saw living in the city. Chandler's eyes were glued on her, thankful that she was something he got to see every day. Monica could feel Chandler staring at her, so she turned to meet his gaze, quiet at first.

"What?" she asked with a small smile after a moment.

"Nothing," Chandler shrugged, a little defensively. He turned his head to the stars, knowing that if he stared at her long enough, he wouldn't be able to help but kiss her.

"Hey," Monica innocently placed her hand on Chandler's leg, wanting him to know that she was there for him. "Talk to me." Chandler shuttered under her touch; although he always held it together when they cuddled on the couch or he pulled her into a tight hug, when she initiated such an intimate touch, he was a puddle.

Before Monica had a chance to realize Chandler was having trouble breathing, he stood up quickly, but she just followed.

"What's wrong?" She sounded more worried than Chandler was prepared for. He felt a little bad, making her worried about him for no reason he couldn't handle.

"Nothing, really," he promised. "I'm just... I kind of want to go for a walk."

"Do you want some company?" she asked with a smile. He sighed, letting a faint grin spread over his face. He could never deny her anything.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I'd love some." The two of them walked down the path to the sand in a comfortable silence. They reached the water, and Chandler stopped to turn to Monica. "Which way?"

"Right," she answered, grabbing his hand in hers to pull him in that direction. Chandler always reveled in her touch; when there were the moments of silent touches, Chandler liked to imagine that she did love him back. He would tug on her hand, she would turn around, her face close to his, and he would kiss her gently as the waves crashed around them. He would look her in the eyes and tell her how beautiful she was. He would lean in slowly for another kiss, stopping briefly as their lips barely touched - he would whisper that he loved her before melting into her.

He was brought back to reality when Monica sat down on the sand, pulling him down with her. The two watched the waves for a minute before Monica broke to silence.

"Did you mean what you said before?" She asked quietly, lazily playing with his fingers on his knee that had been intertwined with hers.

"Yeah," Chandler replied simply, unsure of how else to answer.

"Well, thanks," she nodded still playing with his fingers. She halted and looked up at him, "You're a really great friend, Chandler." She smiled and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "And, you know, we still have our single-at-forty deal, right?" She chuckled, and Chandler just smiled back.

"Right." Chandler was looking at her, a ghost of a smile on his face. There were times when he thought maybe Monica had some feelings for him, and he considered making a move - pulling her into a long kiss, telling her how he's been in love with her for years. But he always lost his nerve before he did anything about it. This time, however, with the moonlight and the ocean air, his nerve was staying.

"Mon?" She looked up at him with a small 'hmm?' and he took a big breath. "I love you." His breath stopped, waiting for her response. A small smile spread over her face.

"I love you, too, Chandler." He closed his eyes with a sigh, but he wasn't going to back out now: go big or go home.

"No, I'm... I'm in love with you." Realizing how real the possibility of rejection was, Chandler immediately started defending himself. He stood up, starting to pace nervously in front of her. "Okay, I know what you're going to say - that we're friends and really, really great friends at that. You're my best friend, and I know you're going to that say we should probably just stay friends because you don't feel that way about me and of course you don't because you're you. And you are amazing and wonderful and beautiful and I'm... well, I'm-"

"Chandler..." She started, standing to meet him, but Chandler kept talking.

"Okay, you might not say that because you're also so nice and sweet. But you probably want to say, 'Chandler you're not in love with me, you've just never been this close with someone before, so you just think it's love.' And believe me, I've tried to pretend that was true for a very long time, but it just isn't." He had been talking towards the waves with Monica sitting behind him; but he turned around quickly to find her standing close to him. He sighed another shallow breath and took her hands in his before he continued. "But I have loved you for so long, and I'm so, so, sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, and I totally understand if you don't want to talk to me but I just... I couldn't hold it in anymore, Mon." Chandler couldn't read Monica's expression for the life of him. She was just staring at him, unblinking, her mouth slightly open. His mind raced, trying to prepare himself for all the different possibilities of her rejecting him.

Monica took a small step forward and moved her hands to her chest, his fingers still wrapped around them. "If you think I haven't thought about this, I have. So, so, many times."

"But?" Chandler asked, preparing the final ball to drop, but Monica just shook her head.

"No. No but." Chandler's eyes lit up - he felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. Her response was such a surprise - he wasn't sure if it was actually happening. But when she moved to press her lips on his, he knew it had to be real because even in his dreams, he never thought it would feel this good to finally be with Monica.

 _if you guys have any song suggestions, just let me know! I'd love to give them a try!_


	5. You Belong With Me

_here's a monica one, MatiSeriously! hope you enjoy it!_

 **You Belong With Me | Taylor Swift**

Monica sat on Chandler's twin bed, cross legged, staring at him on the other side of the room.

"No, babe," he said into the phone, "I said I couldn't hang out tonight because Monica and I are studying, not fucking! Why would I tell you if I was going to fuck another girl?" Monica could hear his girlfriend yelling through the phone, and she could see on his face that Chandler was silently reprimanding himself for trying to make a joke about having sex with her. Beth was never a huge fan of their tight friendship, but that didn't stop them from being friends.

Monica was there when Chandler had come back from a fight with Beth. Monica had hung around the guys' dorm a lot ever since she and Chandler had become closer. Her freshman year at NYU was spent trying - and ultimately failing - to make any lasting friends, so by her second year, she resigned herself to hanging out with her brother and his roommate. But since Ross was with Carol, she and Chandler had begun spending more time just the two of them, much to his girlfriend's discomfort.

He walked into his hallway, not surprised that Monica was waiting on the floor outside his door - they had withstanding plans every Tuesday to study for a classical mythology class that Monica had dragged him into, and he was late. But he told her about the fight, and she insisted that he call Beth if he wanted to work it out. She noticed a slight hesitation before he nodded and picked up the phone.

She had been sitting in his room for a few minutes, watching his fight with his girlfriend over the phone. She had motioned to ask if she should leave, but Chandler insisted she stay.

"No, Beth, I don't!" She wasn't sure what they were really talking about anymore, but if she had to guess, she would say it was still about her: Beth had always been jealous of her and Chandler's relationship, and Monica was often a subject for heated fights. Beth would ask Chandler if he had feelings for her because he must have some feelings for how much time he wants to spend with her. Then Chandler would say how Monica is just his best friend and that her getting mad at them hanging out would be like her getting mad about him and Ross hanging out: he would insist he didn't have feelings for her several times throughout the fight, and Monica was often there to hear it.

"Beth, you know I'll never do that!" Although Monica hated that Chandler was upset, she loved how much he valued their friendship: Chandler had told her how one time Beth hinted that he didn't want him seeing Monica anymore. Chandler refused and went to go tell Monica right away. The hints had only progressed into flat out demands, but Chandler somehow always managed to reject them and stay with Beth. "Fine!" Chandler hung up the phone, angry and frustrated at his girlfriend because she never believed a word he said.

"You okay?" Monica asked after a moment. Chandler shrugged, not sure what the answer was. "Chandler, seriously? It's me," Monica insisted, knowing full-well that she didn't want to hear about his girlfriend, but also knowing that it would kill her to see Chandler so upset.

"It's nothing you don't already know, Mon." He moved to sit down on his bed next to her, pulling the mythology textbook they shared on his lap. "Can we just study? I really have no idea who is who in this stuff." Monica watched him for a moment, watched his eyes move lazily over the words in the book, then she sighed.

Monica wasn't sure exactly why Chandler was with Beth: she didn't laugh at his jokes, she didn't like any of the music or movies he liked, and she didn't challenge him intellectually - in fact, she never wanted to talk to Chandler about anything other than herself. Monica supposed she was beautiful, but there wasn't much else to her. She had spent some time with Beth because Chandler wanted them to 'get to know each other' since Monica and Beth were 'two of the most important people' in Chandler's life. Around Chandler, Beth was at most apathetic towards Monica, only speaking to her when Chandler prompted Beth, but never being outwardly rude to Monica to her face. When Chandler left the room, however, Beth was not shy in telling Monica that she didn't like how close Chandler was with Monica. Monica never knew how to respond, so she always just shrugged and told Beth that if she cared about Chandler, she would let him be friends with whoever he wanted.

"Okay, so Dionysus is basically the God of theatre and partying..."

...

Monica didn't know the exact moment the crush started to form, but she realized it had become was love at a halloween party. She had gone to the party with Ross, Carol, Chandler, and Beth - Chandler and Beth had just started dating, and Monica had been sure they wouldn't last past Thanksgiving. She had thrown together a last-minute costume, going to the party as a "Cool Cat": she wore form-fitting leather pants, a black tank top that showed off her navel, black Doc Martins, and a pair of black cat ears. She went to the boys' dorm before the party to meet up with them, but when she knocked on the door, Chandler opened it to an empty dorm room.

"Where's everyone else?" Monica asked when she walked through the doorway, but Chandler wasn't paying attention: he was distracted by Monica's outfit - by her tight pants, her mid-drift, her make-up, which was just enough to make her edgy, but not enough where it overpowered her natural beauty. Even her hair - which was teased instead of it's usual pin-straight - made his breath catch. Monica turned around to find Chandler's eyes slowing grazing over her whole body. "Chandler?" she asked with a smile, snapping him out of his trance.

"Sorry," he said, slightly panicked. "Nice costume." He tried to play off his intense stare as admiring her as a last-minute-costume-designer, but Monica secretly hoped the look meant a little bit more. "You're, what, a cool cat?" he asked, looking over her costume once more, this time a little quicker.

"Thanks," she smiled. "And, yeah. I was kind of worried people wouldn't get it."

"Well, I get it, so that's all that matters," Chandler teased. Monica looked over his costume, trying to figure out what he was. He had on a pair of slightly ripped jeans, a plain white tshirt, and a leather jacket that Monica was sure he borrowed from someone; his hair was parted on the side but also had a large quiff in it.

"Who are you supposed to be?" Monica laughed at Chandler's generic outfit. "George Michael?"

"Yes, that's exactly who I am," Chandler responded, slightly serious.

"Oh," Monica suppressed a laugh. "Well, you did a bang-up job." Chandler just smiled in response, looking down at his feet: he felt a little embarrassed, but he wasn't sure why. "So," Monica continued, taking a deep breath, "where are we meeting everyone else?"

"Um," Chandler composed himself as fast as he could. "Well, we're meeting Ross and Carol outside our building," - the four of them were, luckily, all in the same building that year - "and Beth is meeting us outside the building the party's in." Monica nodded slowly at the mention of his girlfriend - she wasn't the biggest fan of Beth, but she assumed that was just because of the small crush she had always had on Chandler. They left his room in a comfortable silence, having been friends long enough to not have to speak to each other every second. When they reached the lobby of the building, someone walked through the front doors, and Monica felt the late-fall chill hit her bare shoulders.

"Oh, wow," she said, balking, "I completely forgot a jacket. I'll be right back." She started to turn back towards the elevators to go back up to her room, but Chandler grabbed her arm. Without saying anything, he slipped off his leather jacket and handed it to her.

"Here," he said, reaching out his arm. "We're already kind of late." Monica looked at his warm smile and decided that any protests she had would be met with him adamant about her taking it. She grabbed it from his hand, slipping it on her petite frame.

"Thanks," she said quietly, as the two continued to walk out the lobby doors.

"Just make sure I have it for the party. Otherwise, I'm just some guy who doesn't know how to take care of his pants." Monica let out a light laugh and a quiet "you got it," when the two spotted Ross and Carol sitting on the front steps.

They had met up with Beth outside the apartment building, and she had pulled Chandler into a deep kiss. Monica averted her eyes, but she thought she saw Chandler push back a little, stealing a quick glance at her.

The party was in an apartment just off campus. Monica had given back Chandler's jacket when they got in the lobby, and she could see the confusion and disdain on Beth's face; she and Chandler both ignored the stink-eye Beth was giving both of them.

Chandler had noticed how many guys were talking to Monica at the party, but he assumed all the guys were harmless until he noticed one who could not take a hint. Monica was a few drinks in, and the guy thought he could take advantage, but Chandler could tell - even from across the room - that Monica was trying to get away from the guy. He told Beth he would be right back, and - without waiting for an answer - he walked towards Monica, stopping only for a moment to grab two beer bottles. He approached Monica, swiftly slipping his arm around her waist, kissing her on the cheek, handing her a bottle.

"Sorry, babe," he said, and Monica's head whipped to look at him. "I got stuck talking to that girl in my psych class." A small smile spread over Monica's face as she realized what he was doing. "But I'm back." He tightened his grip around her waist as the guy continued to loom over the two of them.

"I was just talking to Dave here about U2," she said to Chandler with a saccharine smile. "Chandler loves U2," she then said to Dave.

"Yeah, cool. I just saw a friend," Dave said, starting to back away. " So I'll see you later." He turned to leave, and once he was out of earshot, Monica turned to Chandler.

"Oh my god, thank you so much, Chandler." She spoke in a low voice, hoping Dave wouldn't come back, but also knowing that he just might.

"Yeah, I mean, I couldn't have anyone hittin' on my girl." He said it as a joke - and Monica knew it was absolutely a joke - but her heart still skipped a beat at him hearing him say that. She just laughed in response, and he placed another kiss on her head before going back to Beth. She watched him walk away, and she started missing him. He was just across the room, but she wanted him right next to her, holding her, kissing her, rubbing her back like he was doing with Beth. Monica sighed to herself, reprimanding herself for not realizing it earlier when she could have done something about it. But she really hoped they wouldn't make it to Thanksgiving.

...

Monica and Chandler both ended class earlier than the rest of their gang on Fridays: they were both wise enough to make their twelve to one thirty mythology class their last one before the weekend. Towards the end of the semester, when professors were giving out less homework so the students could study for finals, Monica and Chandler decided to go uptown to walk through Central Park. It was a relatively warm day for late-April, and they weren't meeting their friends until later.

Getting off the Five train, Monica turned to take their usual Central Perk route, but Chandler grabbed her hand and pulled her the other way.

"Where are we going?" she asked, not able to hide the smile on her face.

"You'll see." He lead her further into the park, keeping her hand in his. They moved past the Loeb Boathouse, leaving the concrete trail to walk over leaves and tree roots. Monica had never been to this part of the park, but it didn't seem like it was even the park anymore: there were no people, no bikes, no horses. It was just the two of them, climbing the rocks to get to where Chandler wanted to take her.

They stopped at the water, unable to move any further on the small peninsula into the lake. Chandler sat down on a large rock, pulling Monica down next to him. There was no one else around them, but just across the water was the rest of the park. They could see Bethesda Fountain, the people performing, the tourists taking pictures - but they were all far enough away that Chandler and Monica felt like they were alone.

"I like it here," Monica said after a moment, still looking across the lake. Chandler turned to her.

"Me too," he smiled wide. Monica loved that smile - she would stare at it all day if she could. It was one of the reasons she was so adamant on the two of them spending time together, just the two of them: she never got to see him smile like that when he was around Beth. Everytime he smiled at her, Monica had an overwhelming urge to pull him by his shirt to her lips, but she cared about him too much to mess up what he had with Beth - even though Monica thought they had nothing.

"You want to hear something weird that happened?" Chandler asked.

"Always."

"Okay," he started, turning his body slightly to be able to see Monica better. "So I'm alone in my dorm room and there's a knock on the door. I get up to answer it, thinking it was you, maybe Carol." Monica silently noted he didn't think it would be Beth. "But when I open the door, it was my Children's Lit professor."

"What?" Monica laughed.

"Yeah, and she told me to follow her, so I did."

"Naturally," Monica shrugged.

"We leave, and she takes me to her apartment, which, weirdly enough, is right across from our building, and we have gentle yet passionate sex before she opens the closet door and Carol is standing there, yelling nonsense at me." Chandler was trying his hardest to suppress his laughter. Monica just shook her head.

"You're an idiot," she chuckled.

"Okay, so that didn't actually happen, but that's a weird dream, right?" Monica just laughed at him, nudging his shoulder with hers. After a few more moments of silence, Chandler spoke up again: "Can I ask you something?" he was a little more serious than before.

"Yeah, of course."

"Do you like Beth?" Monica looked at his eyes - he had asked her that question several times before, and every time he asked it with such desperation that it almost broke her heart.

"If she makes you happy, Chandler-"

"You're happy for me, I know," Chandler finished. "You always say that."

"Because it's true!"

"Monica, believe it or not, what you actually think is really important to me." Monica's face fell, a wave of guilt quickly washing over her. "Do you not like her?" Monica didn't want to hurt Chandler, but if he was insisting she answer, he probably at least had an idea about how she really felt. She sighed, turning her body to face him.

"If I tell you the whole truth, you have to promise not to get mad at me, okay?" Chandler's expression softened into a small smile.

"Please, Mon. I could never be mad at you."

"What about the time I said I would buy you ice cream for helping me study and instead we got frozen yogurt?" she teased.

"They're not the same! Frozen yogurt is just really cold breakfast!" Monica raised her eyebrows playfully at his outburst. "Fine. How about I promise to only ever get mad at you over frozen dairy treats?"

"Deal," Monica laughed. Chandler held out his hand for Monica to shake; she took it in her, giving it a firm shake before they both rested their hands back in their own laps.

"So what do you really think of Beth?" Monica sighed, knowing she wasn't able to get out of answering the question. Monica tried to form the words in her head to make them as nice as possible - if she did tell Chandler just how much she hated his girlfriend, she didn't think he would do anything about it, no matter how important he says her opinion is to him.

"I don't… I don't think she's good enough for you, Chandler." He just furrowed his eyes slightly, so Monica continued. "It's just that you're this funny, smart, amazing guy… you're the best person I know, and I don't think she sees that." Monica's eyes were fixated on a small pebble at her feet, nervous that Chandler would read into her words and see where they were coming from. He just smiled a small smile before pulling Monica into a tight hug, silently thanking her for her words.

...

Monica was alone in her dorm room, her roommate being out with her boyfriend, as she usually was. Monica had gotten back to her room fairly late after a long night with the gang: they had went out to dinner and then to a frat party, where Beth was all over Chandler more than she usually was. By the time Monica went to sleep, she was still a little fuzzy from the Fireball shots she took. She was woken up by a quiet but persistent knocking on her door. She thought if she ignored it, the person would go away eventually; but after a minute, she rolled her eyes and walked to open the door.

She swung the door open to see a slightly disheveled Chandler looking extremely tired.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked, although he didn't sound totally concerned.

"No, no, I'm always up at-" she looked back at her analog clock by her bed, "three twenty seven in the morning."

"Sorry." Monica stepped aside to let Chandler in, and he immediately sat on her bed. Monica followed him, sitting cross-legged, facing him. They sat like that for a few minutes - with Chandler looking casually around the room and Monica trying to read Chandler's expression. Her head was pounding and she was dying of thirst, but she tried to focus on Chandler.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or did you wake me up just to study my walls?" She asked with a smile.

"I broke up with Beth," Chandler replied plainly.

"Really?" Monica's heart sped up - he didn't seem upset, which could bode well for her in the long-run. "Do you want to tell me what happened?" Chandler nodded.

"I just… I started to notice a lot of things I didn't realize before today. Like, she only flirted with me around other people and how affectionate she was was directly related to how many drinks she had and she doesn't even laugh at my jokes. Who doesn't laugh at their boyfriend's jokes?"

"And you're a regular Bob Hope, too!" Monica smiled, trying to get Chandler to do the same.

"I mean, you tease me about my jokes, but I know you still genuinely think I'm funny. And you don't flat out ignore my jokes either, which is what Beth always did. Either that or she would shush me. Who shushes?"

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Monica consoled.

"You were right. She was all kinds of wrong for me." Monica nodded, trying her best to hide her emotions. "I just have such bad luck finding cool, sane girls." Monica nodded again, her heart dropping, wondering what that made her.

"You'll find someone, Chandler," Monica assured him; she put her hand on top of his that was resting on his knee. Chandler looked down at their hands and then back up at Monica. Without much thought, he moved quickly to her, crashing his lips to hers; but before she had a chance to react, he was pulling away.

"I'm so sorry, Mon," he mumbled, already starting his way out the door. "That was not okay, I don't…"

"Chandler…" Monica's mind was reeling: Chandler had kissed her, but he was leaving before she had a chance to say what she wanted.

"I'll see you later, Mon," Chandler said as he walked out of her room without waiting for a response.

Monica was left alone again, wondering what drove Chandler to kiss her: did it have to do with her or was it just because he was newly single. She just hoped that he wouldn't act weird around her the next time they saw each other - if it guaranteed she would never lose him, she would stay just friends with Chandler forever.

...

Ross, Chandler, and Monica sat in the dining hall eating dinner the next night: Carol was studying in the library, so it was just the three of them. Chandler was telling Ross all about his break-up with Beth, and when he was done, Ross' eyes lit up suddenly.

"Oh! I know someone I can set you up with!"

"Ross…" Chandler tried to protest, but his friend persisted.

"No, no, the best thing to do after a breakup is get right back out there." Chandler sighed, knowing just how stubborn the Gellers could be.

"What's her name?" Chandler asked, looking to Monica and rolling his eyes. Monica stifled a laugh, thankful that - at least, around Ross - they could act normal. Her brother was oblivious to the snickering.

"Her name is Kathy, she's in my biology class. She's really cool." Chandler thought for a moment - it couldn't hurt to go out with Kathy: if he didn't like her, he just wouldn't call her. No harm, no fowl.

"Fine, yeah, you can set it up." Chandler sounded at most, apathetic towards the whole thing, and Monica noticed.

"Cool, I'll talk to her in class tomorrow." Ross quickly looked at his watch. "But right now, I have to go meet Carol. I'll see you guys later." He took his empty plate and left the table, leaving Chandler and Monica alone at the table.

Neither of them had spoken since he kissed her, and neither of them knew how to broach the topic. Monica had spent all night thinking about the kiss, not knowing what it meant. She stared at Chandler, hoping he would kiss her again, hoping that he was starting to see her as more than just a friend. Chandler didn't meet her eyes, keeping his head down, examining the pepperoni on his last few bites of pizza. He wasn't moving to leave, but Monica thought that might even be worse: it seemed he was trying to keep things normal between them, but she didn't like how he was having so much trouble just talking to her.

"I should probably get going, too," Chandler said after a few minutes of silence. He picked up his plate and started walking out of the dining hall. Monica waited a moment before following him.

"Chandler, wait!" Monica rushed after him. She finally caught up to him just outside the dining hall; the sun was starting to set, and the orange light was beaming down the city streets. Chandler turned around - a little embarrassed - to see Monica, a look of determination on her face.

"Mon, we don't-"

"You shouldn't go out with Kathy," Monica interrupted suddenly. When she ran after Chandler, she didn't know exactly what she was going to say, but when he started to talk, the words just spilled out of her. Chandler's mouth moved to start to speak, but Monica continued. "You should go out with me." Monica's heart sped up, but she didn't move her eyes from his.

"What?" Chandler asked, his voice catching just slightly in his throat. "Monica, we can't…"

"Yes, we can," she spoke sternly but lovingly, taking his hands in hers.

"You don't have to do this, Monica. Really, it's okay. I'm fine." His voice was low and desperate, he was avoiding her eyes, and his breathing was shallow. Monica realized that Chandler didn't realize how sincere she was being, that he only thought she was saying this because he had kissed her.

"Chandler, we could be so good together," she insisted, tightening her hands around his. A small smile started to spread over his face.

"You really think so?" he asked while his smile grew. Monica giggled a little at his goofy grin and nodded.

"I really think so," she reassured him.

"Well, that's good," he said and took a step closer to her, so their faces were almost touching. "Because I think so, too." Monica's smile grew to match the size of Chandler's.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Chandler nodded slightly and moved his hand from Monica's, bringing it up to softly stroke the side of her face before bringing his face to meet hers. Monica melted into the kiss, quickly wrapping her arms around Chandler's neck. He moved his fingers through her hair, pulling her head as close to him as he could. Monica smiled at how easily they melded together, about how when he wrapped his arms around her waist, she so easily fit into his body, like she belonged there the whole time.


	6. Faster

_this one is basically just smut. also it's sort of for WishUponAFangirl - hope this is what you're looking for!_

 **Faster | Matt Nathanson (rated M)**

Chandler stumbled back at first when Monica literally threw herself at him, but he soon started to kiss back. Monica was surprised at just how hard he was kissing back, but she was not about to complain. She pushed him back slowly, her hands roaming his chest, until he hit the wall. Chandler was startled, but he never broke the kiss. She tasted like whisky, but she felt like the sun, heating him up to more than he could take. He kissed her back with such fervor because he had no idea if this was ever going to happen again, so he needed to relish every moment he had with the hottest woman he knew in real life.

Chandler realized his hands were still at his sides from being surprised so suddenly: he grabbed Monica's waist quickly, and she pressed herself into him to get as close as she could. She moaned into his mouth as he slid his hands underneath her shirt to her bare back. Monica's hands wandered from his chest to tangle in his hair, running the chestnut locks through her fingers. Chandler's hands slid down to grip right underneath her ass, signaling her to wrap her legs around him. He stepped away from the wall, Monica's legs wrapped tightly around his waist. She pressed herself closer to him as he carried her to his bed, making sure to keep his lips locked on hers. On the way from the wall to the bed, Monica had pulled off hers and Chandler's shirts. Chandler began to unhook Monica's bra as he laid them down on the bed, his hand quickly moving to her breast. He rolled her nipple in between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a soft moan from Monica. She moved quickly to pull Chandler's pajama pants off of him, and he followed suit by slipping his hand underneath Monica to unzip her skirt. She it pulled it off herself, haphazardly discarding it on the floor next to them

"Chandler," Monica breathed when he moved to kiss her neck. "I want you so badly."

Chandler smiled into her neck, sliding the hand that was toying with Monica's breast down her body, stopping at her hips. He kissed her neck, her chest, her navel, until he made his way down to in between her legs. He started on the inside of her thighs, kissing all the way to the edge of her lacy red underwear. He hooked his finger underneath, teasing her, feeling how wet she already was, until she started to move her hips to grind against his hands. He pulled his hands away, causing Monica to lift her head from the pillow, wondering why he was stopping. Chandler just smiled at her before moving his hands back to her hips to slowly slide her panties down her legs and onto the floor. Chandler began rubbing her, and Monica buckled her hips into him at the contact. Chandler could tell she didn't want to wait anymore.

He moved his hand to her clit, starting off in slow circles, then reaching a rhythm he soon found made Monica crazy. He began to move his mouth back down, enjoying how wet he was able to make her. Monica slid her hand down her body to meet with Chandler's; she pushed down harder on his hand, and Chandler smiled into her. He loved that she was never afraid to tell you just how she liked anything.

Monica's breathing got more shallow, and Chandler knew she was almost there. He moved his hand from her clit - taking hers with him - and enveloped it in his mouth. She released a low moan of pleasure, and she took Chandler's hand and guided it back up to her breast. He teased her clit with his tongue and, with his left hand still kneading her breast, Chandler slowly slipped two fingers into Monica. She smiled into a moan as he stroked her g-spot, quickly losing her breath. He pumped his fingers faster and took her clit gently between his teeth, all the while trying his hardest to look at her face: he wanted to see her when he made her come.

He could feel her beneath him, taste her in his mouth, and still, he could barely believe she was there with him: he had spent so many years looking at her from across the room, admiring her beauty, her poise, all the while she only thought of him as her dorky friend. Even if it was just for one night, he couldn't believe he was something more; he needed to relish in every inch of her, needed to remember every perfect detail of her petite frame. He brought his hand down from her breast to the small of her back, leading her to arch into him.

"Oh, fuck, Chandler!" she breathed before she let out a siren's howl, coming hard underneath him. Chandler moved from her clit to kiss again in between her legs, inside her thighs, then back up her body to finally meet her mouth, rubbing her slowly so she could ride out the rest of her orgasm.

When Monica finally caught her breath, she took only a moment before she pushed Chandler off of her to lay down next to her, only to climb on top of him. She kissed him fiercely, not having realized how good sex with Chandler really could be. She took his lower lip in her teeth only for a moment before she continued to kiss him, which made Chandler's heart beat even faster.

He honestly couldn't believe that she had come to him, that she had kissed him. He was in awe at the beautiful woman kissing him so passionately. It was strange to think that only an hour before, they were just talking like friends; and it was even stranger to think that talking like lovers didn't feel strange. She felt so right on him, like she fit into his body perfectly. She pressed herself closer to him, running her fingernails down his chest.

Chandler was pulled from his euphoria when he heard the key card in his door outside. He quickly sat up, pushing Monica from straddling him to merely sitting on his lap. Before he had a chance to explain to Monica what was going on - and before he was able to tell her to hide - the door opened smoothly, only to be slammed shut.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Monica quickly pushed herself off of Chandler, grabbing his shirt that she had luckily thrown on the bedside table and putting it on, covering up the lower half of her with the covers on the bed. Chandler was happy that Monica had only taken off his pants and not his boxers - he was not happy that his boxers were so loose on him. He quickly grabbed a pillow from behind him and put it on his lap.

"Hey, Joe," he said as casually as he could, hoping to God he was dense enough to not realize what they were doing.

"Are you two having sex?" He voice was low and stern and angry when he pointed fingers and Monica and Chandler on the bed.

"Well, we aren't anymore," Monica mumbled, though it was much louder than she had intended: the whisky was still in her head just enough to cause her mind to let more through her filter. Chandler nudged her with his elbow, trying to get her stay quiet.

"We…" Chandler sighed, realizing he would have to come clean with Joey. "We're not _having sex_ , but we were _going to_ have sex." By the end, Chandler was mumbling but still speaking loud enough for Joey to hear him.

"You guys can't do that!" Joey yelled. "You'll mess with the whole group!"

"How would we do that?" Monica asked, a little annoyed at how her and Chandler were not only interrupted but how they couldn't get back to what they were doing.

"Because! Because if you guys sleep together and nothing happens, you guys'll be all uncomfortable around each other. And," Joey continued, "if you sleep together and decide to date, then it'll be Ross and Rachel all over again!" Joey threw his hands in the air as he plopped down on his bed.

"Joey," Monica started, "we would never turn out like Ross and Rachel."

"How do you know?" Joey whined. He hated how much Ross and Rachel's break-up strained the group - he didn't think he could handle it again.

"Well, for starters, Chandler hasn't been in love with me for ten years." Joey's eyes darted to Chandler's.

"You didn't tell her?" Chandler's eyes widened, then his whole pursed quickly as his hands balled into fists.

"What?" Monica turned to look directly at Chandler, who was still shooting daggers at Joey.

"Well, I'm thinking now I won't have to," Chandler yelled through gritted teeth. Monica didn't move her eyes from Chandler, who was avoiding her eyes at all costs.

"Oh my god, dude, I'm so sorry," Joey laughed uncomfortably before Chandler took the pillow on his lap and threw it at him. Joey dodged the pillow, heading straight out of the door.

Chandler continued to stand at the wall, not wanting to have the upcoming conversation when he and Monica were both half naked.

"Chandler..." she started, and he turned to her. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I wouldn't have..." she swallowed hard. "I guess I should go." She started to get up from the bed, but Chandler grabbed her hand before she could stand up.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, no," he said quickly and loudly, exaggerating a shrug. "Monica, do you think I would've done this if I didn't think I'd be okay?" Monica just shrugged slightly. "Before Joey walked in, I was having a blast." His voice was low but playful, and he tried to keep eye contact with Monica as she tried to look away. "And, correct me if I'm wrong, but you seemed to be having a pretty great time, too." He reached out to touch her cheek, guiding her gaze back to him. She was trying to suppress a smile until she spoke.

"Yeah, but Chandler, you l-"

"Okay, okay, okay." He cut her off partly because he wanted to drop the topic altogether, but mostly because he really didn't want her to say the words he had spent almost ten years trying to ignore. He moved his hand from her face, grabbing her hands and leaning in closer to her. "How about I make you a deal." Monica raised an eyebrow, equal parts confused and intrigued. "If you're up for it," he shifted from a cross-legged position to sitting on his knees, still holding Monica's hands. "We can finish what we were doing when we were so rudely interrupted." He spoke slow and quiet, stealing glances at her lips as she licked them. "And - in the morning - if you still think it's too important to ignore, we can definitely talk about it." Monica swallowed hard, fighting with her mind to kiss him right then: she knew it would be wrong, unfair to lead Chandler on like that. He moved to brush the hair off her shoulder, and even the small touch of his fingers on her neck was making it hard for her to think clearly. Her eyes fluttered closed as he rested his hand on the back of her neck, leaning in closer to ear. "How does that sound?" he whispered, and Monica sighed at his hot breath on her skin.

With all of the self-control she could muster, she put her hand on his chest, gently pushing him back off of her. He pulled away from her slowly, his eyes turned down in disappointment. She held him there, literally in the palm her hand, enjoying how unsure he was when she knew she never really wanted to leave, even when she offered to. Giving him a small smirk, she ran her fingertips down his bare chest before moving her face to meet his; she stopped just as their noses touched, licking her lips.

"We'll talk in the morning?" she whispered, her light smile brushing against his.

"Whatever you want." Monica paused for a moment before responding.

"I want you." Monica met Chandler's lips with her own, and his heart dropped. Monica's hands were wrapping around his head, getting tangled in his hair, and she was pulling him down with her to lay down on the bed. His hands roamed underneath her shirt to her bare chest, and he couldn't be any more turned on if he wanted to: Monica had said she wanted him, she was half naked in his hotel room in only his tshirt, and she was pulling him closer to her with every second that she kissed him. Chandler's hands moved down her back, teasing the hem on the shirts before pulling it off of her. She felt him grind into her hips, needing the friction on is growing bulge. When he did, Monica felt the thin fabric in between them, and she quickly moved to pull them off.

Chandler held their lips together for a moment before breaking apart and racing over to his suitcase in the corner of the room.

"Where are you going?" Monica asked breathlessly. Chandler turned around with a small foil square in his hand, quickly moving back to Monica. She took the condom out of his hand, ripped it open, and slowly rolled it on him, enjoying every bit of him while he stood in front of the bed. He whimpered under her touch, silently cursing whatever god was in charge of them for not letting them do this earlier. He moved on top of her as she lied back down, and he grabbed both of Monica's hands in his, bringing them next to her head. He hovered over her for only a moment - fully taking in her body and her beauty - before crashing his lips back to hers.

Monica lifted her hips to rub against Chandler, and the feeling of him against her made her moan in pleasure. Hearing her made it impossible for Chandler to resist her, so he entered her, quick and raw, keeping their lips locked together.

"Chandler!" Monica let out a loud sigh, and Chandler smiled into her lips, enjoying how vocal she was. He thrust into her hard, keeping their fingers locked, grinding his hips into hers. Monica wrapped her legs around Chandler's waist, pulling him closer to her. He shifted down slightly to change his angle, immediately eliciting a loud "fuck!" from Monica. He quickened his hips, moving his mouth to her neck, softly nibbling it before moving back to her mouth.

Monica's hips were moving in time with Chandler's, and she took one of his hands in her, guiding it slowly down her body until she reached her clitoris. She unraveled her fingers from his, pushing his hand onto her, grinding into him.

"God, Monica," Chandler breathed, moving his face just far enough from hers to be able to whisper. "I don't think I can hold on much longer."

"Then don't," she said, leaning back up to kiss him harder.

He pushed harder and faster into her, and he shuttered a hot release, moaning her name into her neck. His fingers on her clit moved faster, and her breath got more shallow with each thrust. He continued to push into Monica, and hearing him come soon pushed her over the edge. She let out a low scream while she came around him, her heat washing over him as his hips slowed to an eventual stop.

He collapsed next to her, both needing a moment to catch their breath.

"You're _really_ good at that," Monica said, her breath still shallow and heavy.

"You want to hear something funny?" he asked, turning his head to her; she responded by turning hers to see him. "I'm usually not." She smiled shyly, remembering what they needed to talk about eventually. She didn't remind Chandler but instead threw her arms around him, and he slipped his arm behind her shoulders, pulling her close to him. He placed another light kiss on the top of her head as her eyes drifted closed. He thought how that was either the beginning of the best thing that would ever happen to him, or the worst. But, in that moment, he didn't care - Monica owned him, and he was happy to just lay there with her forever.


	7. For You I Will

_I was working on a Catch Me story, but I ended up hating it, so I took a break from it and wrote this one. Sorry, but I hope you like this anyway!_

 **For You I Will (Confidence) | Teddy Geiger**

Chandler had mentioned trying to be more than friends with Monica a few times in the past, and every time Ross would tell Chandler that if he tried anything with his baby sister, they wouldn't be friends anymore. Chandler was terrified of losing Ross, and he was terrified that if he lost Ross, he would then lose Monica, so he didn't do anything about his growing love. Chandler had been pining for Monica since her freshman year at NYU, but nothing had happened in the four years. They had become incredibly close, but they never crossed the line from best friends to anything more. It had been especially hard for Chandler for the last seven months because Monica had a new boyfriend that she was crazy about.

Pete was a good enough guy, and his family was crazy rich, but Chandler didn't even think they would last a few weeks, let alone until graduation.

Ross, Carol, and Chandler were walking from their seats in Yankees Stadium to meet up with Monica by the stage. As they were walking towards her, they saw her and Pete talking, but Monica's smile faded quickly into concern as Monica and Pete seemed to be talking over each other until Monica just walked away from him. She quickly spotted her friends and moved towards them, happiness slowly returning to her face.

"Congratulations, Mon!" Ross said, instantly wrapping his sister in a giant hug; Monica turned to hug Carol; then Monica turned to Chandler. His face was wide with pride, and Monica's arms instantly flew around his neck. The force startled Chandler, but his hands instinctively moved to Monica's waist, wrapping around her body, holding her close to him. He held her for a moment, whispering a 'congrats' in her ear, but she wouldn't pull away. After a minute of holding the hug, Chandler pulled away, much to Monica's resistance, but he kept his arms around her.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked quietly, not wanting to draw attention from Ross and Carol.

"No," Monica shook her head, "but can I tell you about it later? I just want to enjoy this."

"Yeah, of course." Chandler squeezed her again before they broke apart, and the four went in search of Monica's and Ross' parents. Monica looped her arm through Chandler's, holding him close to her, using him like a crutch.

...

Chandler and Monica went back to their building to get ready for whichever one of the many parties they were invited to that night. When they left Ross and Carol behind, Chandler waited a moment before speaking up.

"You want to talk about what happened now, or do you still want to wait?" he asked.

"Pete and I broke up," she said plainly. Chandler's breath caught, but he tried to recover quickly.

"Oh, Mon. What happened?" He followed her into apartment 20, both plopping down on the couch.

"He said he was going to move to China to help run his dad's company." Chandler just watched her talk, studying the complicated expression on her face. "He said he wasn't leaving for a month, so we could still 'have fun' until he left, but I told him to forget it." She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but Chandler could tell she was holding back.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," he said, throwing his arm around her shoulders to bring her to him. She only stayed like that for a moment before she sprung up from the couch.

"It's okay! I'm okay." She held out her hand for Chandler so he would stand up with her.

"You sure?"

"Chandler." She put her hands on his chest, and his heart fluttered. "I just graduated college. We're having fun tonight."

Chandler met back in Monica's apartment a half hour later, ready to go to the party. They were planning to pre-game at Monica's first, for they didn't totally like anyone at the parties, so if they went already drunk when they got there, they would have more fun.

"Mon?" He yelled through the apartment, reaching over the fridge to pull down a bottle of tequila.

"One minute," she yelled from her bedroom. Chandler got two shot glasses and salt from the cupboard and two limes from the fridge. He poured out two shots and cut a lime as quickly as he could, trying to get the first shots set up before Monica came out.

Monica opened the door to her room, still fiddling with the strands of hair in her face.

"You look great," Chandler noted when she walked down into the kitchen. He had perfected his system of complimenting her - three years ago, if she walked into the room wearing a black skirt and a black tank top that showed off just a bit of her navel, with her hair straightened to just above her shoulders, a deep green velvet choker necklace, and black high tops, he would have stared at her for far too long to be appropriate. He would have had to swallow hard before stuttering out how great she looked; but the three years of him trying to hide his feelings made it easier for him to compliment her like a friend. He could look at her once and say something nice, and knowing he would be able to look at her all night made it easier for him to tear his eyes away.

"Thanks," she smiled. "Tequila?" She cocked her eyebrow at the table.

"Yeah!" Chandler nodded in excitement, handing Monica a shot glass full of tequila; Monica smirked at him then licked the back of her hand for Chandler to shake salt on; Chandler followed.

"Ready?" Monica nodded. "On three. One, two, go!" They both licked the salt off their hands, downed the tequila, and bit the lime, trying to wash down the burning alcohol. "How many are we doing?" Chandler asked.

"Which party are we going to?"

"The closest one, right?"

"So, I'm gonna' say at least three more." The closest party, while geographically the best, was the party of a frat house. They knew some people who would be there, but the main reason they decided on that party was that they could get home quick if they wanted to.

Chandler and Monica both took two more consecutive shots, deciding to take a break before their fourth one. After a few minutes, Monica felt a rush go to her head, the tequila beginning to take effect. Monica stood up quickly to get a drink of water, almost falling down as her body left the chair.

"Whoa," she giggled. Chandler reached out to her, trying to help her steady herself.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she continued to giggle, but stopped as soon as she sat back down, completely forgetting about the water she needed.

"What?" Chandler asked, noticing her sudden change in demeanor.

"I broke up with Pete today," Monica sighed.

"Yeah, I know." Chandler reached his hand out and put it on top of Monica's.

"That makes me a little bit sad." Chandler just nodded slightly, knowing that Monica didn't need cheering up - she just needed someone to listen to her. After a moment of solemn silence, Monica's eyes perked up again. "Two more before heading out?"

"Yeah, sounds good." Chandler set up another two shots, and they pounded them back. Slamming the glasses back down on the table with a sound of disgust, Chandler popped up from the table. "Ready to go?" Monica mirrored his enthusiasm, jumping from her seat herself.

"Of course!" The pair stumbled out the door into the warm May air. Chandler started to turn down Bedford, but Monica grabbed his arm and jerked him back to her.

"Let's walk a little," Monica suggested. Chandler hesitated a moment before agreeing: he knew that he would only be able to handle so much time with just her, five shots deep. Whenever they got drunk, Chandler had a much harder time holding back everything he wanted to tell her; once they were around other people, Chandler could control his feelings, but when they were alone, it was harder to control himself.

Chandler looked over at Monica, who was holding his arm to keep herself steady; her other hand quickly ran through her hair, and he hated Ross. He hated Ross for guilting him into being miserable, and he hated that he couldn't do anything about his overwhelming feelings. It took every bit of self-control he had to not blurt out that he loved her, every bit to respect his best friend and not ruin his relationship with his two favorite people.

"How badly do you actually want to go to this party?" Monica asked. Chandler smiled knowingly - Monica had never been big on parties. She rarely went to them, and, if she did, she would usually only go if Chandler was going with her. She had started partying more in her senior year, but Chandler thought that was just because Pete was a big socializer, so he drug Monica along with him. She was probably all partied-out for a while.

"Hey, they're not my peers," he shrugged. "I couldn't care less."

"Okay, good," was all Monica said.

They walked through the village, laughing when either of them stumbled or passed by strangers, reminiscing about the fun times they had when they were both at NYU.

"Oh, no, no, no!" Monica laughed. "That is _so_ not what happened." They had made their way to Washington Square Park, and they were sitting cross-legged on the wall around the lit fountain, facing each other.

"Yes, it is!" Chandler protested.

"No, _you_ initiated it!"

"How did _I_ initiate it? _You_ leaned in first!"

"Only because _you_ touched my face!"

Chandler knew they were walking a very dangerous line: they were arguing about who tried to kiss whom a little while after they had become friends.

They had been drinking champagne in his dorm to celebrate Chandler declaring his major - it had started as a small gathering with Ross, Carol, and a few of Chandler's other English-major friends. Eventually, everyone else had trickled out of the room, going back to their respective dorms - Ross going back to Carol's. They had just opened another bottle of wine when everyone decided to leave, so Monica and Chandler had to finish it themselves, taking alternating swigs straight from the bottle. They sat next to each other on Chandler's bed, their backs against the wall and their legs stretched out.

"Do you know what you're major's going to be?" Chandler slurred, his head foggy from the bubbly. Monica shrugged as she swallowed a mouthful of champagne, handing the bottle back to Chandler.

"What do you major in when you want to be a chef but your mom makes you go to a 'real college'?" Monica resented her mother for forcing her out of culinary school - she had said that she needed to try to get a 'real job' and to keep cooking as a hobby to make her future husband happy. Monica hated arguing with her mother, so she told her mom she would go to school if they paid for her to go to NYU. Her parents had agreed, and Monica was happy that she got to go to school with her brother and that she and Chandler had gotten the chance to become friends, but she had no idea what she wanted to do.

"Oh, c'mon," Chandler said. "I bet there's, like, a food science major, or something!" Monica chuckled at Chandler, knowing full-well there was no such thing.

"I'm sure I'll figure something out," she sighed, looking down at her hands. A piece of hair fell in her face, and Chandler reached to push it behind her ear.

"Hey, it'll be fine." Chandler rested his hand on Monica's cheek. "You're smart and driven and worst comes to worst, you're definitely hot enough to be a really classy stripper." She let out a small chuckle, and Chandler couldn't help but smile because she had. "You're going to be fine." He brushed his thumb lightly across her cheek, causing her to turn and look at him, their faces much closer than she had thought they were. The weight of Chandler's hand on her face grew more apparent as she stole glances at his lips; her breathing got heavier and her heart beat faster. She slowly started to drift her head towards his, closing her eyes, anticipating the impact, but before their mouths met, there was a knock at the door.

Chandler sighed into a frustrated smile before getting up to answer the door. It was their friend Kip who had left his jacket in the room. Chandler gave it back to him, closing the door and turning around to see Monica was standing in the middle of the room, ready to leave.

"I think I'm going to head out, too," she said quietly.

"Oh, okay," Chandler tried to hide his disappointment, but he was sure he didn't do that great of a job.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Just as she walked out the door, she turned around to congratulate him again. He smiled a small thank you before closing the door behind her.

They had never talked about their almost-kiss, but after three years, they were finally hashing out the details.

"Just because I touched your face does not mean that I wanted to kiss you!" He had wanted to kiss her, though, just as he wanted to kiss her right then.

"Yes, it does!" Monica laughed. She threw her arms up, exasperated.

"I don't think we're going to settle this," Chandler said, wanting to move on from the topic.

"You're probably right. We're both just too damn stubborn."

Chandler watched Monica as her eyes shifted from him to the fountain next to them. The lights made her eyes glisten, and he wanted to stare at them forever. The tequila was still strong in his system, and he thought about telling her: he weighed what Ross had said versus how miserable he was. His alcohol-soaked logic made him think that if he told Monica, and she rejected him, he wouldn't have to tell Ross anything; but if he told her and she reciprocated the feelings, then she could talk Ross down from the ledge and continue to be Chandler's friend.

Chandler felt a few drops of water hit his arm, and - at first - he thought it was just a splash from the fountain; but all too quickly, rain poured down on them, soaking them both quickly. Chandler grabbed Monica's hand and pulled her with him to run under the arch. They got underneath and both erupted into laughter, Monica leaning back against the inside of the arch to support her.

"You look ridiculous," Monica said in between gasps of laughter. Chandler's hair had flattened completely and was clinging to the side of his face. "You're soaking wet!"

"Yeah, well, so are you!" Chandler tried defending himself.

"But I still look good," Monica smiled. Chandler breathed a small "yeah," looking shyly down at his feet. After a moment, Monica's smile began to fade.

"You know what's stupid?" she asked, not giving Chandler enough time to answer. "Pete wasn't even sad."

"What?"

"When I told Pete we were over, he didn't protest or call after me or anything."

"So?"

"Did he even like me?" Monica was equal parts angry and self-deprecating, and Chandler put his hand to her arm, rubbing it slowly. "I mean, was he only with me so he would have someone to fuck?"

"Hey, c'mon. Who… who wouldn't want you?" He stopped rubbing her arm, but he just rested his hand on her bare shoulder.

"It's just that everyone I date is either a jerk or emotionally distant or they're moving to the other side of the world. I feel like it shouldn't be this hard to find somebody." She stared into his eyes fiercely, not willing to look away from him.

"Monica," he breathed. He mustered every ounce of confidence he had in order to say what he always wanted to say to her. Monica slid her hand down Chandler's chest, keeping her eyes locked on his. She shook her head slowly, swallowing hard.

"No," she said. Chandler furrowed his eyebrows, relaxing his shoulders completely. "No," she said again, laughing slightly. "I don't want you to say anything."

"But, Mon, I have to-"

"No, I know."

"You know?"

"I know."

"You know."

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"But..." she sighed deeply. "But I don't know how much you feel, and I don't want me to not be able to say exactly the same thing back, but…" She stopped for a moment, Chandler's furrowed eyes still locked on hers. "I, um…" Chandler's expression relaxed, hoping his instincts were right, hoping he knew what Monica was thinking. "Oh, fuck it." She grabbed his face in her hands, pulling it into hers for a deep kiss. Chandler was startled, but he melted into the kiss quickly. He wrapped his arms around her, one cradling the back of her head and the other on the small of her back, pressing her into him. Monica wasted no time, opening her mouth to enter Chandler's, the tequila prominent as they tasted each other for the first time.

Chandler felt like his whole life was leading up to this kiss: every heartache, every suppressed emotion, every other meaningless relationship had led him there, to that moment, kissing her in Washington Square Park. He was glad he didn't have to voice his feelings, and he was glad she reciprocated at least a fraction of them, but he was surprised at her aggressiveness and eagerness. Monica had never struck him as a take-someone-right-there-in-the-middle-of-the-park kind of person - not that he was complaining, but he had to mentally brace himself for the moment that Monica realized it was the alcohol that made her want to kiss him.

It wasn't _just_ Ross that held Chandler back from expressing his feelings: he never, in a million years, thought Monca would be interested in him as anything but a friend. He was certain that the combination of being recently dumped and being under the influence made Monica lonely, made her want to kiss anyone, but it wasn't specific to him. He was just there - but, for the moment, Chandler didn't care. Chandler didn't care if Monica woke up the next morning and forgot the whole night; he didn't care if she pulled away from the kiss and told him what a great friend he was: he was just happy revelling in the kiss, wishing it would last forever. He knew it couldn't, and he knew it shouldn't. He knew he had to stop the kiss before either of them got hurt - or before either of them started undressing in the park.

Chandler tried pulling away from Monica's lips, only successful after holding her back from him by her shoulders. Monica's creased her forehead, searching for something in Chandler's eyes to give her an explanation as to why he stopped the kiss.

"Chandler…" she sounded hurt and surprised, and Chandler's heart broke just a little to see her like that.

"Mon, we're both really drunk…" he whispered, trying to be loud enough for her to hear him over the rain.

"So?"

"So, I don't know if this is a good idea." His mouth was saying one thing but his head was screaming the opposite: he couldn't believe what he was saying. Years of pining, but he still had to put her first.

"What?" Monica was almost angry, her tone biting at Chandler as she pushed his hands off her shoulder.

"You don't really want to do this, Mon," Chandler insisted, causing Monica to cross her arms over her chest.

"Oh, and you know what I want?" Monica raised her voice at, cutting him off when he tried to speak. "No, Chandler, you're just being stupid!" Chandler raised his eyebrows in confusion. "You like me and I like you so what is the problem?" Her voice softened and gaze shifted down to her feet. Chandler instantly cupped her cheek in his hand and guided her face back to his. He didn't know how to say how much he loved her, how much he wanted them to work, but he knew he could show her. From her relieved sigh she let out just before his lips crashed to hers, he could tell she felt the same way: they were on the same page, and everything else was just details.


	8. Crazy For You

_Sorry for the long wait on the updates! here's the next chapter!_

 **Crazy For You | Madonna (rated M)**

Monica eyed Chandler from across the reception hall: he was trying - and failing - to pick up a woman at the lesbian wedding. Carol and Susan had just finished their first dance, and more couples were beginning to flood the dance floor. She watched as the women swayed happily to the music, watching the couples hold each other close, wondering if she would have that soon - or ever. She moved her eyes back to Chandler, who was already staring at her. She gave him a small smile which he reciprocated; he jerked his head to the dance floor, cocking an eyebrow. She shrugged and started her way over to him, meeting him in an empty spot on the dance floor. Without so much as a word, Chandler put his hands on Monica's waist, and she loosely draped her arms around his shoulder. The song soon switched to something more upbeat, but they kept holding each other.

They had stood like this many times before, dancing at parties, weddings, even in Monica's living room whenever either of them felt down or lonely. Although they would never admit it to each other, after a few times dancing so closely, the two found themselves wanted more than just to dance.

"Did I tell you that you look amazing tonight?" Chandler whispered as he moved his mouth closer to Monica's ear. His more sincere comments were often meant for her ears only.

"You've told me that maybe three times already, Bing." Monica smiled, thinking that it wasn't just a formality but that he really meant those words.

"Just thought you might have forgotten." He didn't want to tell her that every time he had told her, she had looked more beautiful than the last. He didn't want to tell her that it didn't matter how many times he told her how beautiful she was, he would never stop thinking it. But he knew their limits, and although the lines were blurry, they just had a close friendship - and that's all.

Chandler kissed the top of her head as he pulled her even closer to him, tightening his arms on her waist as she slid her hands down to his chest.

Just because they were just friends didn't mean they didn't redefine friendship to suit what they wanted.

Monica looked up at Chandler, studying his face as he gazed right back into her eyes. She loved the way he looked at her. It had always made her feel so special, so wanted. He looked at her like he had never seen anything or known anyone like her. She secretly hoped he saw the same thing in her eyes.

They smiled at one another before Monica wrapped her arms around Chandler, holding him as close as she could while her head was on his shoulder. Chandler, his hands now further up on her back, started to lightly rub small circles with his finger on the back of her shoulder.

Every time he held her, Monica couldn't help but notice how well her body molded into his, and how - with every breath she took - she felt like they were melting closer together. She silently wished that Chandler could read her mind, could hear what she was thinking. She wanted him to be able to see that every time his arms wrapped around her, she grew crazier about him. She wanted him to know that these little moments they had were her favorite things, that she looked forward to events with dancing just so he could hold her close.

She always wondered if he felt the same way about her, if he even ever had a fleeting moment, a small rush of feelings that went away after a moment. If she knew that he felt the same way, even only for a second, she wouldn't feel so weird about the feelings she had for her best friend.

But she did feel strange about it because she didn't think he ever thought about her like that. She was crazy for him - and it killed her - but she loved him and their friendship too much to risk letting him know.

By the end of the night, they both had had more than a few drinks, their minds fuzzy and warm from drinking scotch all night. They hadn't realized people were starting to vacate the reception hall: they were so enthralled in themselves that it took Rachel coming up to them and physically pulling them apart to get them to leave with the rest of the gang.

"You, guys," Rachel started, putting her hands on either of their shoulders. "We're gonna' head home now. You coming?"

Chandler and Monica finally stopped dancing to follow Rachel. They had not broken away completely, though, for Chandler's arm was around Monica's shoulder and her arm still around his torso. Neither of them wanted to let go.

"Alright, guys. I'll catch you later," Ross said as he hailed a cab. "I have to make sure the apartment is baby proof enough for Ben."

"Oh, yeah, you have him for the whole week, right?" Joey asked.

"Yeah," Ross smiled. "I have every day planned to almost the minute, so I probably won't be able to hang out a lot this week."

"Oh, shoot," Chandler deadpanned. "I feel like we never get to see you."

Ross just chuckled in response. "I'll talk to you guys later." As Ross's cab drove away, Joey and Chandler hailed another two.

"Hey, do you guys think I could stay on your couch tonight?" Phoebe asked Rachel and Monica. "My grandma is on vacation with her boyfriend, and I don't really want to be alone tonight. That old lady's spirit really took a lot out of me."

"Sure, Pheebs," Rachel answered, suppressing a small chuckle. Joey, Rachel, and Phoebe crouched into the first cab, and Chandler and Monica took the second. It was like a tradition, even second-nature for Monica and Chandler to share the cab home. Chandler let Monica into the cab first, following close behind, instinctively sliding his arm behind her. He pulled her close to him just as easily as she curled up to him. Aside from Chandler giving the cabbie their building's address, and asking him not to rush, Monica and Chandler sat in a comfortable silence all the way home. The whisky made them a little handsier than usual, though cuddling in the back of a taxi was not unlike them.

They reached Grove and Bedford, Central Perk closed and most of the lights in the building off. Chandler handed the driver a twenty then grabbed Monica's hand to help her out of the cab. Neither of them realized they were still holding hands when they walked into the building. As they climbed the stairs, Chandler's grip instinctively tightened on Monica.

"That was a really great wedding," he mused.

"Yeah," Monica agreed. "I think they're going to be really happy together."

"Let's just hope Susan isn't secretly straight." Monica laughed with Chandler as they approached the fifth floor, stopping in between apartments 19 and 20.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Monica asked, although she knew she didn't have to.

"Bright and early." Chandler smiled.

She leaned up, standing on her toes, to give him a light kiss on the cheek. Her lips brushed his face lightly, but she held the kiss longer than most friends would.

"Good night," she said.

"Night, Mon."

Locking the door behind her, Monica walked into her apartment, stopping to sit down at the kitchen table. Phoebe was already sleeping on the couch, for which Monica was grateful. The effects of the whisky were still present, giving her the need to be held, touched, caressed. She started to make the move to her bedroom - to ignore her desire so blatantly because it was late and she didn't want to bother him and she didn't want Rachel or Phoebe to catch her leaving - but she soon balked. In a moment of impulsivity, Monica slowly and carefully unlocked and opened the door as quietly as she could, hoping that in the extra nine or ten minutes it took for her and Chandler to get back, Rachel had fallen asleep, too.

She made it out into the hallway without incident: whether Rachel was asleep or just ignoring the noise of the door, Monica didn't know. She also didn't really care. She debated knocking on the boys' door, but decided against it when she realized it was a possibility that Joey could answer. She reached for the doorknob, turning slowly as to not make any noise. She laughed to herself at the boys' leaving their door unlocked while they slept.

Once she was in the apartment, she moved right toward Chandler's room, his door already cracked open. Pushing it further, she saw Chandler lying on his side facing the door with his eyes closed, solely taking up the left side of the mattress. She moved to his bed, pulling up the covers slowly as she snaked her way next to him.

"Mon?" Chandler stirred, opening his eyes just enough to notice her piercing blue eyes.

"Yeah, sorry," she whispered. "I didn't really feel like sleeping alone tonight. Is that okay?"

In lieu of words, Chandler responded by lifting his arm so Monica could fit into his body, his chest against her back and his arm across her stomach. She intertwined her fingers with his, comfortably laying like that, neither of them really tired enough to go to sleep.

Chandler tried closing his eyes, but his gaze kept falling to the women he was holding. Holding her in his arms felt so right. They've fallen asleep together before, and every time he imagined that they never had to get up, that he was able to just hold her forever

He smiled as he watched her in his arms, watched her breathe steadily, her fingers still wrapped in his. He had never wanted to stay like this with other girls. He had often moved throughout the night in search of more comfortable positions. But with Monica, it was different. Everything was different with Monica.

Monica stirred in his arms when Chandler placed a small kiss on the back of her shoulder. She turned around in his arms to look at him, all the while smiling at his embrace.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey." He stared into her eyes, the feeling of wanting to kiss her bubbling at his surface. It was a constant feeling he had - wanting to kiss her, hold her, be with her - but more often than not, controlling it was easy. It had become part of his daily routine, hiding his feelings for her. It was harder, though, when she looked at him with her eyes glistening and her face so close to his.

Monica's heart sped up just thinking about it - thinking about inching her face closer to his, finally closing the gap between them. She always thought about it, but the thought was usually pushed back to where it was just a whisper of a thought. The alcohol, however, amplified the thought to where it was all she could hear in her head.

"Chandler..." Monica started, keeping her eyes locked with his.

"Hmm"

She took a breath. She needed to do it.

"Kiss me."

"What?" Chandler was taken aback. He had never thought in his whole life that Monica would reciprocate his feelings, let alone tell him about them.

"Kiss me," she repeated, her voice softer and slower than it had been before.

"Monica, are you drunk right now?"

"Not really."

Chandler's eyes widened in anticipation. He didn't want their first real kiss to happen when either of them was drunk: he wanted to remember how she felt, relish in how she tasted.

He put his hand to her cheek, stroking against the skin with his thumb as he moved his face to close the almost non-existent gap between them. Monica was eager to reciprocate the kiss, using her hand to pull his head closer to hers.

The two were only like that for a moment, until Chandler pulled his lips from hers - much to Monica's surprise.

"Are you sure about this?" He wanted to give her an out before they did something they couldn't take back. He figured getting over just a kiss would be easier on him than getting over something more.

"Do you not want to?" Chandler noticed a hint of disappointment in her voice and in her eyes.

"No, no," he reassured her, stroking her face softly with his thumb. "I really want to. That's why I want to make sure you do, too." He was almost embarrassed to say it, to even just imply his feelings for her.

"Chandler?"

He lifted his head to look at her.

"I really want to." They smiled at each other as their mouths reconnected. The kiss started slow, intimate, until they were too uncomfortable with the both of them lying on their sides facing each other. Chandler gently pushed Monica so her back was on the bed and swung one of legs over to the other side of her to straddle her hips. Never once did he break from her lips.

Monica's hands moved from his face to the back of his head, needing him closer to her. Chandler's hand cupped her cheek as the other one slid down the side of her, toying with the bottom of her shirt.

In order to tell him it was okay, Monica moved to pull his shirt over his head. He soon followed her direction, starting to unbutton her blouse from the bottom. The feeling of his fingers grazing her stomach caused Monica to let out a small moan, enticing Chandler to move his hands faster. She pushed the top off her shoulders as Chandler reached behind her to unclasp her bra. Monica was trying to help him go faster by pulling the bra off her chest as soon as the clap was undone.

"God, Monica," Chandler breathed into her neck in between kisses. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." She smiled at his words. Taking his face in her hands, she brought it back up to her face. Before meeting his lips again, she put her mouth to his ear.

"I think I probably have some idea," she whispered.

Chandler smiled into the kiss, and his hands wandered down her body. His mouth soon followed, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her chest. He pulled down her bottoms as he kissed down the rest of her body, finally landing in between her legs. She moaned as he made contact with her lips, teasing her as she gave him complete control.

She had never imagined that being with Chandler could be this good. He joked all the time about how terrible he was at sex, but, to her, it seemed like he was more than capable at the task. She soon started to quiver into his mouth, so he smiled and stopped for a moment to look at her face. He wanted to know how she looked when he made her come for the first time.

His tongue continued to move in a complex rhythm, pushing Monica over the edge. He smiled widely as the sound of her pleasure resonated through his whole body. After giving her a moment to catch her breath, he started making his way back to her face, kissing her slowly on every part of her.

"Chandler," she breathed, "we need-"

"Right. I'll be right back," he answered, kissing her lips deeply before rushing out of the bedroom. He tried to be as quiet as he could, for he did not want Joey to wake up to find him rummaging through their bathroom looking for a condom. He found one, quickly trying to rush back to his room, back to Monica.

"You just got one?" she asked when he came back in. Chandler stammered to find an answer, her forwardness catching him off guard and bringing out his nerves.

"I'm kidding, Chandler," she assured.

"Oh. Okay." he crawled back on top of her, leaning to kiss her. Before their lips met, she interrupted him.

"Maybe," she smiled.

"Oh?" was all he was able to say before Monica pulled him to her.

Chandler moved to open the small tinfoil package as Monica untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He stepped out of the pants while Monica rolled the condom onto him.

They moved in rhythm together, starting off slow, but getting faster as they both climbed.

"Oh, Chandler," Monica said, out of breath.

That caused Chandler to move faster, pushing them both over the edge together, moaning each other's names into deep kisses. He slowed down to a stop, and laid down next to her to pull her into his arms.

"Oh, my god, Chandler," Monica said after a moment.

"Well, I wouldn't say I was a god, but that was pretty damn good."

She let out a small laugh, and he pulled her closer to him. Her head rested on his chest, his hand running lazily up and down her arm.

After only a few minutes, they both started to drop to sleep, not thinking about the inevitable conversation they would need to have. They lied there, content for the moment just lay in each other's arms.


	9. Then Okay

_this one is written in a style that's a little bit different than my usual stuff. and i know it's been one thousand years since i've updated, and i'm sorry, but i_ _ **did**_ _write a mondler fic for nanowrimo, so that'll probably be up on its own aaaaaat some point. okay!_

 **Then Okay | Julia Nunes**

She was trying not to think about it.

They were sitting in the coffee house on January 15, all biding time before they went back home. Monica was at the far right table, watching her friends interact as she sat quietly, barely listening to the conversation. Chandler was sitting on the big chair on the other side of the coffee table, trying to rationalize with the never rational Phoebe. She tried to concentrate on Joey, who was just eating a muffin. Or Ross and Rachel, who were nearing on their eleventh month together, so Rachel was sitting on the arm of the side with her arm around Ross, but they were doing nothing to hold Monica's attention. That kept drifting back to her friend sitting across from her - or rather his lips, and their kiss.

Which she was trying really hard not to think about.

She thought two weeks was more than enough time to get over some kiss.

 _"Pheebs, we're kissing at midnight, right?" Joey asked Phoebe when she started handing everyone glasses of champagne._

 _"Oh, yeah," she replied quickly. "I'm not gonna' be the loser who doesn't kiss anyone on New Year's Eve." Her eyes quickly shifted to Chandler, who had also come to Monica's party dateless. His eyes widened as he realized_ he _was the loser who won't be kissing anyone on New Year's Eve._

 _"Monica!" He moved over to her quickly, before it was too late and they missed the ball drop. She just stared at him, confused at his heightened energy._

 _"You have to kiss me at midnight!" She just laughed in response. In the background, everyone at the party started counting backwards from ten. "Cmon!"_

 _"I'm not going to kiss you, Chandler."_

" _C'mon, Mon!" he whined._

" _No."_

 _"Then I guess we'll just both be losers..." She knew he was trying to bait her, but it was four seconds to midnight, and no one else was going to kiss her._

 _"Fine."_

 _"Fine?"_

 _"Fine!"_

 _The guests all shouted happy New Year, and Chandler leaned in sweetly to brush Monica's lips with his - he didn't want to take advantage of the favor she was doing him. But he felt her deepen the kiss slightly, grazing the back of his neck with her fingertips. He wasn't sure how to respond at first, but she didn't really give him a chance to: before he could move his hands from his side to her waist, she was pulling away._

 _Monica just stared at him, unsure of how to continue. She tried to rationalize the situation and the sudden feelings bubbling inside her, but her mind was reeling._

 _"Happy New Year, Mon," Chandler said after a moment. His mouth was turned up slightly and his eyebrows were raised._

 _"Happy New Year." She was much more confused than how Chandler was coming off: she had never thought of him in anyway other than a friend, but the kiss was starting to stir something in her. She walked away from him suddenly, seeking out Phoebe for advice._

 _Phoebe told her that it wasn't surprising that she thinks she suddenly has feelings for Chandler, especially if was as good of a kiss as Monica was painting it: that's just what happens when you have a good kiss with someone. It's not real feelings, Phoebe assured her, and they should go away by the morning._

They didn't.

She had been sleeping restlessly the past two weeks, worried what her feelings meant and wondering whether or not Chandler was feeling anything like it. She knew the kiss was a bad idea, but she would never have expected _this_ from a stupid New Year's tradition. All she could do was imagine Chandler's hands in her hair, his lips on her neck, his body pressed up against hers: she just wanted to feel him. She had stayed up the past two weeks, thinking about him and her drastic change in feelings for him. Tossing and turning each night, she had hoped it was merely physical, and if she could just kiss him again, the feelings would probably go away. She could feel herself dozing off in the coffee shop, only to be woken up by Chandler saying her name.

"Monica!" he yelled for a second time, startling her into slipping her elbow off the table; her head quickly dropped, just barely missing the table. "You okay?" Chandler asked.

"Yeah, yeah," she started gathering her things, needing to be alone as quickly as she could. "Just tired. I think I'm gonna' call it a night. See you guys later."

Monica had had just enough time to start on a large bottle of wine and change into her pajamas before she heard the front door close softly.

"Mon?" Chandler's gentle voice filled her apartment, and she stepped out of her bedroom to meet him on the platform by the window. "Hey," he smiled. "You okay?" She stared at him intently, trying to figure out a way to respond without completely lying to her best friend _and_ without telling him she had a crush on him.

"I'm just tired," she shrugged.

"Yeah, what's that about? What's been keeping you up?" His voice was soft and worried, like Monica was his only priority - and, at that moment, she was. Monica took a breath, unsure of how to answer: the wine was starting to hit her head, making her judgement just a little fuzzy.

"You've been keeping me up," she sighed, almost easily. When he did not respond right away, however, she held her breath, waiting for his response, waiting for him to get freaked out and leave her to drink her feelings until she fell asleep like she had several nights out of the past fifteen.

But he didn't move.

"Me?" was all he asked.

"Well," she sighed. "New Year's, really."

"Oh. Okay."

"And I don't know how to deal with these feelings because you're Chandler and I knew the kiss was a bad idea but I didn't know that… this would be the consequence." Monica's eyes had drifted down to look at her own intertwining fingers, embarrassed at herself and at her feelings. It felt like a long silence, but neither of them made any move away from the other.

"What did you think was going to be the consequence?" Chandler asked quietly.

"What?" Monica looked up at him, confused.

"Why did you think it was a bad idea?"

"Because…" Monica sighed. "Because you're Chandler, my best friend Chandler."

"I thought Rachel was your best friend."

"Chandler."

"Sorry."

"Look," she sighed. "It doesn't matter _why_ … because, you know, I was right." Chandler breathed out a light chuckle, nodding slightly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You always are." Monica's smile grew to match Chandler's fraction-of-one.

"Chandler…" Monica started to sound apologetic, but she stopped herself, unable to keep herself in check any longer. Without another word, she grabbed his face and brought it to hers, kissing him deeply, instantly aware that he was not kissing her back as enthusiastically as she might have hoped. Panicked, she stepped away completely before he had a chance to react. Monica just stared ahead, and she could feel his gaze burning into her. "Sorry," she mumbled. She was not sure where to go or what to do - she knew she could not stand there with Chandler looking at her with his wide eyes and confused expression any longer, though. Itching to retreat from the situation, she turned around and shut herself in her room, locking the door behind her. She leaned against it, waiting for Chandler to just leave.

She didn't hear him move, but after a moment, there was a knock on the door.

"Monica?" she held her breath. "Come on, Mon. You can talk to me." When she didn't answer, he sighed deeply. "I know there's no fire escape in there. You're going to have to talk to me at some point." For another few moments, they were both silent. Then there was a thud on the door right behind Monica's head: he had dropped his forehead to the wood. "You can't do that, Mon…" he spoke softly, a little bit of strain in his voice. "You can't just kiss me and leave without giving me any time to react." She knew that was true: it wasn't fair to him for her to have bolted like that, but she couldn't help it. She could only stand so much humiliation before she shut down, and she had just admitted that she had feelings for him - that was more than enough embarrassment for her without the added stress of kissing her best friend with little reaction from him.

It was just all so much.

"You know, if you hadn't attacked me-" he almost laughed and hoped Monica at least smiled - "I would've kissed you back."

She wasn't sure if she should believe him or not: sure, he joked around all the time, but he was her friend - he wouldn't joke about something this important. Even still - whether he was being serious or not - she had no idea how to respond to him.

"You don't have to say that," she spoke dryly through the door, keeping her face turned away. At the sound of her voice, Chandler lifted his head from the door.

"No, Mon, I swear." He couldn't help but smile. "I-" he stopped suddenly. "Can you please come out of there, Monica?" He begged. "I'd rather have this conversation face-to-face, not face-to...door." Monica took a moment to collect herself, and Chandler thought she was ignoring him again until he heard the door unlock.

When she opened the door, Chandler couldn't help but notice that she looked smaller than she usually did: she was physically a very petite woman, but the constant confidence and strength she usually carries around with her make her seem like she takes up more space. Chandler had never seen her embarrassed and vulnerable like this.

"I'm sorry, Chandler."

"For what?"

"For kissing you!" She sounded almost frustrated that he didn't instantly know. "And for… falling for you. You didn't ask for this."

"Monica," Chandler smiled, putting a hand gently on her arm. "I may never have asked _you_ for this, but I've asked whoever's up there" - he waved vaguely above his head - "more times than I can count." He wasn't sure if he had said too much - if Monica's thing was just a little crush, and she got over it quickly, he would have just admitted his feelings for her for nothing.

"Chandler, come on, you don't" - but before she could finish, his lips were on hers and his hands were on her face. Monica reacted immediately by grabbing Chandler's head and threading her fingers through his hair, having waited weeks to be able to properly kiss him again. She had imagined their first kiss over and over again since then, but no memory was as good as the real thing: Chandler's mouth opened eagerly, and Monica's tongue moved inside. She moaned into him, hoping to God that her grip in his hair was enough to keep him connected to her. Monica's eager hands slipped down to toy with the hem of Chandler's shirt when he mustered up enough self-control to pull his lips away, but still keeping his face close to hers.

"Okay," he whispered, trying to catch his breath. "I think we should maybe slow down just a little." Monica just nodded slightly, trying to find her voice. She looked back up at him: this was not just a physical thing. She looked at him and her heart fluttered - actually _fluttered_ \- because his hair was ruffled and his cheeks were flushed and he looked better than she had ever seen him. They both stood with their faces inches from each other, not sure what either of their next move will be. "That was some kiss, huh?" Chandler said after a moment. Monica smiled slightly, not sure if he was trying to break the tension with a joke or if he was being completely serious.

"Yeah, definitely something…" Monica sighed, not knowing how else to answer.

"I'm just trying to think ahead here," Chandler said, speaking low and breathy. "Trying to be realistic about…" he gestured between them, and Monica nodded in understanding.

"Right, right," she said, keeping her eyes locked with Chandler's. "We should probably talk a little more… Right?" She winced a little, hating the idea of them having to sit down and talk about their _feelings_ : Monica was not even sure _what_ she was feeling.

"Yeah, we probably should." Chandler moved his gaze quickly from her eyes to her lips and back to eyes: he could not stop thinking about how good that kiss was. It didn't even last very long, but it was one of the best kisses he had ever had. He had no idea what would come of it, and he had no idea if she would be open to it, but he knew he wanted to do it again – he was pretty sure he needed to do it again. For his sanity. His impulse getting the better of him, Chandler flew his hands to her face and pulled her back to him, sighing as their lips met again. He could feel Monica's slight smile underneath his, but it disappeared as the kiss got more intense. Her hands moved quickly underneath his sweater, needing to touch him, to feel him to make sure he was actually there. She started to pull him back towards her bedroom door, and he happily followed her, making sure to keep his hands on her hips and his lips on hers. Kissing Monica was like nothing he had ever experienced: it somehow felt like he was falling and floating at the same time, like he was losing himself in something that was only going to complete him.

When Monica's back hit the door, she was happy that she didn't close it all the way. As she led him back to her bed, she vaguely wondered what their friends thought they were doing - or if they even noticed - but when Chandler moved his mouth to her neck, any thoughts that were not of him in that moment flew out of her mind. His pace slowed down, wanting to kiss every bit of skin he could reach as he guided her down to lay on the covers. He wanted to savor what they were about to do - if their kissing could leave him that breathless and flustered, he could not wait to see how he would react to more of her.

Monica's hands had moved back to his face, gently urging it back to hers so she could kiss him more - this time, however, it was not frantic like their previous kisses: it was slow and gentle, almost like neither of them could believe what was happening. Which they couldn't. Chandler had had a painful crush on her when they first started hanging out when Chandler moved into the building: he would come over all the time, bug her to hang out with him, and then stay until she fell asleep curled up against him with the credits of some romantic comedy rolling quietly on the TV. Once they found a rhythm, his crush started to subside, and he focused on the fact that he had someone he could count on and go to when he needed to talk. Up until their kiss on New Year's, he had assumed the crush had completely gone away - but when their lips met for the first time, he realized that he was in the camp of I-am-willing-to-take-what-I-can-get, and now that she was giving him all of her…

It was definitely something he could get used to.

Chandler moved his hands underneath her t-shirt, but stopped and pulled his face from hers in a slight panic, all of a sudden worried that he had somehow pressured her by kissing her so forcefully.

"What are you doing?" Monica asked him breathlessly as he stared at her.

"Are you sure about this?" Monica searched his face, finding only genuine worry in his features - which was something she never saw in him. She would have laughed it wasn't so sweet.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay," he sighed, moving back to her lips.

Neither of them had expected it to be so great. Good - yes; satisfying - hopefully; but mind-blowing, earth-shattering, forget-your-own-name amazing was not something either of them could have prepared for. Monica had her head on his shoulder, and Chandler had his arm around her, their legs tangled up together: neither of them could stop touching each other. Even just the small contact of her fingers on his chest was driving them both crazy. Chandler forced his gaze off of her to glance at the alarm clock on her bedside table and sighed - it was quarter to eleven, and it had been almost two hours since he left the coffee house to check on her.

"I should probably go," he said evenly, shifting his body so he could sit up.

"What?" Monica did not want him to go - she wanted them to stay there in the little bubble they had created around them forever. But he wanted to leave, and she couldn't very well force him to do something he did not want to.

"I mean, I want to stay, I do," he assured her, and she smiled, relieved that he knew her – knew her anxieties and fears – so well. "But Joey's going to wonder where I am, why I haven't been home, what I'm doing naked in your bed…"

"What if," she started, nervously grabbing at and playing with his fingers, "you stayed here until tomorrow morning, and we can just tell everyone that you fell asleep on the couch again..?" Instead of responding with words, a smile broke out over Chandler's face and he planted a firm kiss on Monica's lips. He felt her relax as he did, and she relaxed even further when he laid them both back down on her bed.

"You know what?" Monica asked after a moment.

"What?"

"Rachel is staying at Ross's tonight…" she smiled, raising her eyebrows playfully at him.

"Really?" He tickled her sides lightly with his fingertips, and she giggled and squirmed under him; he leaned down to kiss the laughter out of her lips – he loved the feeling of her smile pressed against his.

…

Monica woke up exhausted - technically, she didn't wake up because, technically, she never fell asleep.

That was probably why she was so exhausted.

She didn't care, though - it was a good exhausted, a satisfied exhausted. Plus, she had gotten used to Chandler keeping her up all night over the past two weeks. This time, however, it wasn't because she craved his touch with no way to feel him, but because he was there to satisfy her craving - several times.

Her head was resting on his arm, his other arm around her waist; their legs were on top of each other; and they were lying facing each other, naked under the covers. She tried to move slightly from Chandler's sleepy grasp to see the time, but he pulled her back to him before she could see. The sky was still dark, so it was still early, but - being mid-January - it could still be as late as seven o'clock. Because she couldn't remove herself from Chandler's grasp, she nudged him with her elbow, trying to wake him up. He just groaned, so she nudged him again, a little harder.

"What?" he moaned, his eyes still closed.

"Check the time," she ordered quietly.

"You check the time," he whined, burying his head in the crook of her neck to lightly kiss her shoulder.

"I tried to, but _someone_ won't let me move."

"So I don't want you to leave my arms. Sue me." Chandler kissed the smirk that was playing across Monica's face, but she only let the kiss last for a moment before pushing Chandler's chest to separate them.

"Check the time, Bing." With a groan, Chandler rolled his body, loosening his grip around her waist, but keeping his arm under her head as well as his legs intertwined with hers. He glanced quickly at the clock and turned back to Monica, pulling her closer than she before she woke him up.

"Six fifty-two," he mumbled before kissing her bare shoulder again.

"Everyone is going to be over for breakfast soon."

"Mmhmm…"

"If they hear us in here…"

"Oh, let them." Chandler's mouth had moved from her shoulder to high on her chest, showering her skin with light kisses. He moved one leg over her to straddle her hips, and she brought one of her hands to his knee.

"Chandler." She tried to say his name sternly to get him to understand the gravity of the situation, but it came out as more of a low sigh: he had kissed the spot just below her ear that he had hit so many times the night before. "We don't have time for this, Chandler." Chandler just kissed his way back to her mouth, caressing her lips softly and slowly. He ran his hand down her arm to intertwine his fingers with hers; he brought their hands up to rest on Monica's chest in between their bodies. Monica brought her free hand to Chandler's face, pulling his head a little from hers.

"Can I ask you something?" she whispered.

"Sure." He shifted himself so he was lying next to her again and brought their connected hands up to his mouth to lightly kiss her fingers.

"That thing you said last night…"

"What thing?" Monica sighed.

"The thing you said about asking whoever was up there" she made the same vague gesture he did the night before - "for this to happen."

Chandler just looked at her blankly. "What about that thing?"

"Did you mean that?" it wasn't that she was doubtful that he did feel the same way about her that she felt about him - it was just that she had a hard time believing that that specific thing he said was true.

"Of course I did," he answered easily. Monica furrowed her eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Really." She still looked unsure, so Chandler knew he needed to convince her he was telling the truth; he reached his hand over to her hip, and she turned on her side so they were face-to-face. "Do you remember about three years ago, when Phoebe had just moved out of here and Joey just moved in?" She frowned and tried to remember when he was talking about. "You were upset because you had somehow convinced yourself that you were hard to live with and that was why you didn't have a boyfriend." She was beginning to remember the night, but she let him continue the story anyway. "And I hugged you and told you that that's crazy because you're funny and amazing and the most beautiful woman I know in real life." His voice was slow and he had a glint of a smile on his face as he watched Monica relive the evening in her mind. He slid his hand from her hip to her lower back, and he pulled her just a little closer to him. "Do you remember that?" She nodded slightly, her hand running up his arm. "And do you remember when I blurted out that that felt nice, and when you agreed with me, I panicked and pretended that I was talking about your towel?" Monica's smile grew, and her hand moved up further to Chandler's cheek.

"You've liked me since 1992?"

"Way longer than that, babe," he laughed self-deprecatingly, and he didn't noticed her breath hitch at the term of endearment. In an attempt to hide her cheeks that were no-doubt turning red, she leaned to press her lips to his in a short and sweet kiss.

"How come you never said anything?"

"I was just waiting for you to get here, too," he shrugged. She quickly kissed him again, her heart unable to take any more of his cuteness. Chandler gently pushed Monica so he was on top of her again, slowly running his hands up her sides.

"Seriously, though, the gang is going to be expecting at least coffee soon," Monica warned. Chandler just hummed into another kiss. One of his hands found their way to gently caress her breast while the other moved down to her hip. When she moaned into his mouth, Chandler couldn't help but feel just a little smug that he was the one causing those kind of noises in Monica. He honestly still could not believe that he was there, in her bed, with her, naked, and able to kiss her like that. He could feel Monica start to rock her hips into him, and he pressed his lips firmly to hers before pulling away. Disappointment washed over her face, but a small smile spread across Chandler's.

"The gang is going to be expecting coffee soon," he said simply, and Monica groaned. Chandler climbed off of her, seeking out his clothes that had been haphazardly discarded around the room the night before. He found his boxers and his pants thrown on the chair in the corner and his t-shirt on the floor not far from his sweater. Chandler got dressed just a little quicker than Monica, so when he was finished, he went to wait for her on the couch. She followed him out of her room, confused when he was sitting in the living room instead of waiting by the door like she thought she would be.

"What are you doing," she asked.

"I fell asleep on your, couch, remember?" He reached out for her hands and pulled her to him until she fell onto his lap, stifling a giggle.

"I think it'd be a little suspicious if they walked in on us like this." Chandler's hand snaked underneath her t-shirt, pulling her as close as she could get to him.

"We always fall asleep cuddling," Chandler shrugged.

"Not quite like this." Monica slid from his lap to sit next to him, and Chandler oh-so-naturally put his arm around her, her head falling to his chest. Monica quickly pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and threw it over their outstretched legs. They just stayed there for the next few minutes, enjoying the last of their time together – just the two of them – for the morning. When they heard the front door open behind them, they both closed their eyes, pretending to be asleep.

"Hey, you guys," Rachel said casually, hoping to wake them up, but neither Monica nor Chandler budged. Ross walked in a moment after Rachel, instantly making an appalled noise at the sight of his little sister and his best friend together on the couch.

"Why do they always do that?" he asked, his voice high pitched with disgust.

"I think it's cute," Rachel said. "They look happy."

Monica smiled to herself and curled as close to Chandler as she could. She could not believe that it had taken her so long to fall for this guy: he was sweet, funny, smart, and a damn good kisser. Best of all, though, he was her friend - someone she could count on and someone she knew would be there no matter what. She didn't have to worry about messing up their friendship for the sake of a relationship because she knew, no matter what happened, they would be okay. They weren't forcing anything because they didn't have to - it had only been one night, and it all felt so natural to Monica, like they should have been doing it the whole time.


	10. Bad Idea

**Bad Idea | Yuna**

A dream.

A fucking dream.

How could one night's sleep change her entire view of someone she's known for almost fifteen years?

It's all Kathy's fault, really: she got Chandler to begin to think about settling down, to be a good boyfriend, only to break his heart. All Monica wanted to do when Kathy cheated on him was make him feel better.

And, according to her subconscious, _she_ could make him feel better.

It wasn't the first dream she had had about him - he actually was a fairly recurring character in her fantasies during her recent dry spell.

But this dream was different.

This _fucking_ dream wasn't just sex. Because she can handle the sex.

What she couldn't handle was the closeness, the unexplainable rush of feelings she got when he smiled at her in her dream.

And now in real life.

The whole group - except for Ross because he was off with Emily - was sitting in the girls' apartment around the coffee table. Monica was sitting in the corner of the sofa, and she couldn't help but stare at Chandler on the chair.

She was angry - at her mind, for conjuring up a scenario where they were clearly in love; at her self-control, for being weak and allowing herself to get carried away by the silly dream; and at him, for being cute and smiling at her when he noticed her staring. Her breath caught a little at the glint in his eyes, and she silently berated herself: she had to stop. It was a bad idea to let herself fall even _this_ far for him - anymore and they were sure to have a very awkward situation on their hands.

"Hey, you okay, Mon?" Rachel asked from the other end of the couch.

"Huh?" The mention of her name brought her out of her Chandler-induced haze, but she hadn't heard a word of the conversation before it. She looked back over to Chandler, and he was staring at her intensely with furrowed eyebrows; he looked worried. Monica had to talk to someone about this. "Uh, guys?" she addressed Joey and Chandler. "Could you maybe hang out at your place for a while? I just remembered I have to talk to Phoebe and Rachel about something…"

"And you can't tell us about it?" Joey whined.

"Yeah, c'mon, Mon," Chandler continued. "We may not be girls, but we're good listeners." He looked to Joey for his agreement, and Joey nodded.

"No offense you guys, but this isn't really something you can help with," Monica winced.

"Period stuff?" Joey asked; Chandler hit him on the arm.

"You're okay?" Chandler asked Monica, more seriously - she knew him well enough to know that he would not leave if she wasn't all right.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just… girl stuff," she shrugged, torn between wanting to look away from him out embarrassment and wanting to commit his features to memory.

"Okay," he nodded, standing up and pulling Joey with him. "But if you need us, our door's always open." Chandler and Joey left the apartment, and Monica sunk back on the couch, closing her eyes with a sigh. Phoebe moved from the floor to sit on the table in front of Monica, and Rachel scooted over closer to them. They exchanged a worried and confused look before Phoebe put her hands over Monica's.

"Monica…" she said slowly, not wanting to startle her friend.

"I'm in love with Chandler," she breathed easily. Both Phoebe and Rachel glanced quickly back at each other before staring at Monica with wide eyes.

"You're what?" Rachel yelled.

"Well, not in love, I guess, but definitely in-something," Monica clarified, opening her eyes to see her two friends' surprised faces.

"Okay, sweetie," Rachel breathed, "start from the beginning. When did this happen?"

"I had this dream-"

"I've had those!" Rachel said. "That doesn't mean you're in love with him. You just need to get some!"

"No it wasn't just- wait." She looked over at her friend. "You've had dreams about Chandler?"

"Yeah, I have too," Phoebe shrugged.

"Okay, we can talk about _that_ later." Monica felt uneasy about that - was she jealous? was she angry? She was definitely something, but she needed to tackle one issue at a time. "But it wasn't just sex. I mean, I've had those dreams, too, but they were fine and I didn't wake up with these… feelings!"

"What was the dream?" Phoebe asked.

"Okay, so it started with me right here on the couch. And I was sitting just, you know, whatever. Then Chandler walks in and he says, 'hey sweetie.' I get up and ask him how his day was, and he says not well. And he's looking down and he seems really upset, so I kiss him - like a real kiss. And when we stopped kissing, it didn't turn into sex. He just looked at me with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face. And he tucked some loose hair behind my ear. We were both happy and I felt… almost light. Then I woke up, and _boom_."

"Boom?"

"Yes, boom!" Monica flew her hands in the air for emphasis. "I have feelings for him! He smiled at me this morning and I got so light-headed, I swear I almost fainted."

"Are you sure it's not just, you know, a passing thing?" Phoebe asked.

"I had this dream about a week and a half ago."

"So, not a passing thing…" Monica shook her head to concur with Phoebe.

"What do I do about this?"

"What do you _want_ to do about it?" Rachel felt for her friend - she knew how it was to fall hard and quickly for someone you were already so close with.

"I don't know," Monica shrugged. "I mean, it's usually a bad idea to get involved with friends." Phoebe scoffed, looking to Rachel, but Monica was oblivious to it. "And he _just_ got out of a relationship a couple months ago. A serious one, too, that ended badly."

"Plus, you know, it's possible he doesn't even feel the same way," Phoebe said casually as she got up to put her glass in the sink. She couldn't see the daggers that Rachel was shooting her.

"Oh, my god!" Monica sank back into the couch, exhausted and exasperated with the whole situation. "You're so right, Phoebe. If I told him, he would reject me and our friendship would be over. I need to just make these feelings stop. How do I make them stop?" The three of them were silent for a moment, all trying to come up with a solution.

"I know!" Phoebe excitedly yelled as she rushed back over to the girls. "When I was living on the street, one of my stalkers was really, you know, stalker-y, and at first I was all, 'oh, hi, I'm flattered,' but eventually it just became too much, so I stopped acknowledging him, and he eventually stopped stalking me." Monica and Rachel looked at Phoebe with surprised expressions, mouths agape and eyebrows raised. When neither of them responded, Phoebe rolled her eyes and explained further. "Just shut him out - ignore his jokes, don't spend one-on-one time with him, try not to even talk to him all that much."

"Pheebs, he's one of her best friends," Rachel pointed out. "It's going to be pretty hard for her to shut him out completely."

"Yeah, but it'll only be until the feelings go away, and that's not going to take that long."

"How do you know?" Monica asked skeptically.

"I'm psychic."

"Right," Monica smiled. "Okay, that could work. I can do that." It wasn't something she wanted to do, but it did seem like the only viable option at the moment. "I guess I'm ignoring Chandler for the foreseeable future. Thanks, you guys."

"Anytime, sweetie," Rachel sighed, patting Monica's knee. "Okay, now that we're done with that," she turned back to Phoebe. " _One_ of your stalkers?"

…

It really wasn't fair.

It was actually way _un_ fair.

Why did she have to start falling for Chandler at all, but especially now? He was still a little hurt from the whole Kathy ordeal, and not even a year ago, Monica had turned him down multiple times when he offered to be her boyfriend.

Monica groaned.

He had offered to date her, and she turned him down.

Now she really wish she hadn't.

Monica sat on the couch by herself, drinking wine and eating ice cream right from the container: a picture-perfect scene of a girl who's fallen for her best friend.

"Hey, Mon." Chandler had walked in without knocking - as he usually did - and had pulled a Yoo-Hoo out of the fridge without asking - as he usually did - but Monica hadn't noticed until he had started talking. "What are you up to tonight?"

"Nothing," she answered reflexively. Chandler walked over to stand near where she was sitting on the couch.

"You wanna' go see a movie, or something?"

She did, she really did, but she knew she shouldn't. Phoebe had told her to avoid situations with just the two of them, and going to a movie would definitely be too intimate for her to handle.

"Oh, I can't, I'm busy," she shrugged, unable to come up with a better excise.

"You just said you weren't doing anything."

"I thought you meant tomorrow night," she laughed nervously. Chandler looked at her with a tilted head, confused at her behavior.

"You okay, Mon?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Monica stood from the couch and moved quickly to the kitchen - she needed to be far away from him.

"Are you sure?" He followed her closely, setting the chocolate beverage on the kitchen table.

"Yes, Chandler!" Chandler's expression relaxed into offended surprise at her outburst.

"Hey, what's going on?" He took a few steps closer to her, reaching out to touch her arm.

"Nothing." She moved from him again, ducking away from his touch.

"Are you mad at me, Mon? Did I do something I don't know I did?" She could hear the hurt in his voice, see the worry in his eyes, and it killed her. No matter what romantic feelings - or lack thereof - this guy had for her, he still cared about her. A lot. They were each other's best friends, and she wasn't being a very good one.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong," she sighed.

"Then why won't you talk to me?" He asked, taking another step towards her, but still keeping his limbs to himself.

"I'm just not up for doing anything tonight, Chandler." She tried to speak as calmly as she could, but she could feel that still came off as cold and a little bit angry at him.

"Oh-okay," he stuttered. "I just thought, I don't know, that we were-" the faint smile on his face faded with a sigh; he frustratedly ran his fingers through his short hair. "But I guess not. If you want to be alone, I'll let you be alone." Monica could see that she had hurt Chandler - hell, ugly naked guy could probably see that from across the street. That was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

"Chandler…" She started, but he was already opening the front door to leave.

"No, Mon - if you'd rather sit on your couch with Phish Food and Chardonnay than talk to me for even two minutes, then, please, be my guest." With that, Chandler stomped out of the apartment and slammed the door behind him, leaving Monica to stand defeated.

She waited a few hours to go over there - they both needed time to cool off and collect themselves. It was kind of late - and he could have already been asleep - but she couldn't stomach the idea that he might still be upset: she needed to just be straight with him. Tell him what's going on, how she's going to handle it, and that it won't affect him at all - that was the plan when she walked in his apartment, anyway.

"Hey," she said quietly; he was sitting at the kitchen counter, staring into an almost empty mug of black coffee. He looked up at her for just a moment and nodded, but he didn't say anything. Monica tentatively stepped into the apartment, moving to stand across the counter from Chandler. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier." Chandler looked up to meet her gaze, but otherwise he was still. "It wasn't about you, I just have a lot going on-" she gestured to the top of her head - "up here."

"That's okay," he smiled softly. "But what's got you so funked up that you don't think you can talk to me about it?" Monica sighed and straightened up: the idea was to be as diplomatic as possible, to not let her emotions get the best of her.

"Well," she started slowly, "there have been some recent… developments in the area of general romantic feelings... towards you." She held his gaze to try to read his expression - she wasn't sure if he would understand what she was trying to explain.

"Are you- are you trying to tell me that you like me?"

"I'm handling it, I promise," she assured without any real confirmation of his question.

"Is that why you were pushing me away?" Monica could see in his furrowed eyebrows that the gears were turning in his head.

"It'll go away - it's just we shouldn't hang out only the two of us for a while."

"That's not happening," Chandler replied immediately, almost offended that Monica would even suggest that. Over the past few years especially, the two of them had begun hanging out without the others; starting when Rachel moved in, Chandler had quickly become who Monica had turned to when she needed to get away from everything else in her life.

He moved from the stool and began to pace the length of the living room; Monica followed him to the other side of the counter.

"I know it'll be weird, but-"

"It won't just be weird," he interrupted. "It'll suck! It'll suck way hard. I'm not doing that. I'm not going to _not_ hang out with you because you have some little crush on me."

"It's not just some little crush!" She exclaimed it without realizing fully what she had admitted to him, but she kept going. "It's not going to go away unless I give it a chance to!"

"I can't not see my best friend - that's ridiculous, Monica!" They were both beginning to yell at each other, the physical distance between them slowly shrinking.

"Do you think I like this any more than you do?" Monica spat back. "I feel terrible just at the _thought_ of not seeing you every day."

"Then don't not see me every day!" Chandler's voice was still raised, but he wasn't so much angry anymore as he was frustrated.

"Well, if you have any other great ideas, please share them with the rest of the class!" Monica exclaimed with the same intensity back at him. Her adrenaline was so high that she didn't notice him take a swift step towards her: before she knew what was happening, Chandler had grabbed her face and began furiously kissing her. Monica kissed back just as intensely, but alarms were sounding in her head, telling her to stop.

Obviously, she was trying to ignore them.

With one hand still on her face and the other on her hip, he pushed her against the counter, sandwiching her between it and his body.

Monica's head was spinning: she was kissing Chandler, his hands in her hair, and while a part of her was enjoying it - he was a _really_ good kisser - a bigger part of her forced her to grab him by the shoulders and pull his face from hers.

"Chandler, this is a bad idea," Monica breathed, sliding from her spot against the counter to move away from Chandler and into the kitchen.

"What? Why?"

"Well, for starters, you just got out a very serious relationship."

"Who, Kathy? That wasn't serious!"

"You were in love with her!"

"No, I wasn't!" Chandler's voice was high and a little panicked - Monica knew that as his voice for when he was, in fact, telling the truth, but no one believed him.

"Chandler, I was there!"

"That wasn't - I wasn't-" Chandler took a shallow breath to collect himself, clenching his fists to gain control over his exaggerated arm movements. "Okay," he sighed, much calmer than before. "To explain… all of this, I'm going to go back. And this is only going to happen one maybe two more times in my whole life, but I'm going to be very… candid with you. I'm not going to make any jokes because I need you to know that I'm taking this seriously." He locked his eyes with Monica's waiting for any protest to his oncoming rant, but when he found none, he continued. "I guess since the beach, after I offered to be your boyfriend-"

"I thought you were joking when you said that," Monica panicked, suddenly worried that he had been dwelling on that weekend.

"I was, I was, but it just made me think… made me notice this game we play."

"Game?"

"Yeah, you know, how much can we act like a couple without actually being one. We do these things… like, um…" Monica almost offered up her own examples of them acting like they were a couple, but she decided that she wanted to hear him talk about it. "Okay, like, how we share your comfy chair when we're all together. Your head is on my shoulder and my arm is around you and your legs are over mine…" Monica noticed the glint of a smile on his face as he motioned with his hands vaguely, just thinking about them cuddling. "And how we shut ourselves out of the rest of the group so we can hang out just the two of us. Stuff like that."

"We've always done those things, Chandler," Monica noted, a similar faint smile on her face.

"I know we have! And I don't know why I only just within the past year realized how couple-y we are. It's like the beach heightened our flirty energy, or something, and then we weren't just nearing the line that separates friends and more-than-that, but we were on top of the line. And neither of us knew which way we were leaning, and maybe one of us was on the friends-side and the other was on the more-side, but I honestly can't tell who was where because-"

"Chandler!" Monica interrupted with a light laugh and her hands on his arms. "What does this all have to do with Kathy?'

"Kathy, right!" He took another breath to pull himself back into the emotional journey he was taking himself on. "Well, when I realized that this thing-" he gestured between him and Monica, "was… developing, I panicked - you know, as I do." Monica nodded and shrugged because, yes, he does do that. "And I just threw everything into convincing myself I was in love with her to try and push… anything I felt for you out of my mind. Ironically," he smiled, "I had done exactly what I had gotten mad at you for; only I used a person and you used mean words."

"Was that a joke, Bing?" Monica asked, pretending - if only slightly - to be actually upset that he had made even a small one.

"Was it? I can barely even tell anymore," he shrugged sheepishly.

"So, you weren't in love with Kathy?" Monica asked, pulling his focus back.

"No, I was not in love with her. Don't get me wrong, I felt something for her, but it definitely wasn't love." Chandler took a tentative step closer to Monica; he was looking at her with the same goofy smile he had in her dream that had started this whole thing. She wanted to throw herself at him, to feel his lips on hers again, but there were still alarms going off in her head.

"Okay, but that's not the only reason this is a bad idea." She was almost whispering - Chandler was standing close to her, so close that she could smell the coffee on his breath.

"Please, enlighten me then, because I'm having a really hard time trying to come up with any."

"It's never good when friends date, Chandler…"

"Says who?"

"Come on, Chandler. I really don't think our group could handle another Ross and Rachel fiasco," she breathed. His hand had moved to lightly rest on her hip, and his thumb slipped just off the hem of her shirt to the tiny bit of skin that wasn't covered by any clothing: the contact was making it fairly difficult for Monica to think.

"They won't have to."

"Chandler…"

"We're not them, Mon." He moved from her hip to grab her hands in his, letting their intertwined fingers dangle to their sides. "They're both so crazy that the only way their relationship would ever have been able to end was with a giant blow out. Plus, your brother is kind of a moron." Monica chuckled, silently agreeing with him: Ross _was_ a moron, for more reasons than just cheating on Rachel. "We're so much closer than they were," Chandler continued, more seriously. "And I thought it was only me who was feeling this shift, but it's not, and that's so great." His smile grew, but Monica averted her eyes to the floor, causing Chandler's expression to drop. Without saying anything, she untangled her fingers from his and stepped out from in front of him - the warmth he was radiating onto her was making it hard for her to think rationally. She hadn't thought that she would get to this place - that Chandler would not only reciprocate feelings but also be willing to act on them - so she had not prepared for it. All she could think about was if something happened and they broke up, she would not only be out a boyfriend but also her best friend. She was glad her back was turned to him because she wasn't sure she wanted to see his face: she had just told him that she had feelings for him but then almost immediately shut him down. There was just so much to think about when you start having feelings for your best friend, and Monica wasn't sure they had thought it all through. Her eyes landed on that godforsaken leather chair, and she tried to force herself to slow down and take a moment to think about how ugly the thing is - anything to get her mind off the confused man who was still standing in the kitchen. She had walked away without saying anything, but she knew him, and - more importantly - he knew her: she was sure he knew what she was thinking, what she was worrying about.

But that by no means made her feel any better about it.

She felt a slight tug on her hand - she hadn't even heard Chandler walk over to her - and she turned around to see his eyes already fixed on her. He closed the small distance between them, slowly bringing his hand up to rest on her cheek before gently placing his lips back on hers. The kiss was soft and short, but Chandler didn't pull back very far: he rested his forehead on Monica's, and when she opened her eyes, he was already staring at her.

"Chandler…" she whispered, still trying to collect herself.

"You know how great we'd be, Mon," he said back. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, and her eyelids fluttered under the contact.

"Yeah, but-"

"We can figure out the rest later," Chandler smiled. "I don't want to go the rest of my life without even giving this a try." Monica saw so much sincerity in his face - no jokes, no sarcasm. He was serious about it, about them. She smiled and leaned into him again, meeting their lips in a much more heated embrace. It was a kiss filled with years of buildup and history and released tension, and Monica couldn't come up any reason as to why it was such a bad idea anymore.


End file.
